The cayote is a living, breathing allegory of Want. He is always hungry. He is always poor, out of luck and friendless. The meanest creatures despise him, and even the fleas would desert him for a velocipede.

All you drunkards: Put down the intoxicating Vanity Metrics.

The critic's symbol should be the tumble-bug: he deposits his egg in somebody else's dung, otherwise he could not hatch it.

I have only one moral precept; never smoke more than five cigars at a time.

Enthusiasm is caught, not taught.

The devil's aversion to holy water is a light matter compared with a despots dread of a newspaper that laughs.

Truth is such a precious article - let us all economize in its use.