By common consent of all the nations and all the ages the most valuable thing in this world is the homage of men, whether deserved or undeserved.

A soiled baby with a neglected nose cannot be conscientiously regarded as a thing of beauty.

My own luck has been curious all my literary life; I never could tell a lie that anyone would doubt, nor a truth that anybody would believe.

All men are ignorant, just on different subjects.

New Year's is a harmless annual institution, of no particular use to anybody save as a scapegoat for promiscuous drunks, and friendly calls and humbug resolutions.

The wit knows that his place is at the tail of a procession.

It now seems plain to me that that theory ought to be vacated in favor of a new and truer one...the Descent of Man from the Higher Animals.