Journalism is literature in a hurry.
Spare me the whispering, crowded room, the friends who come and gape and go, the ceremonious air of gloom - all, which makes death a hideous show.
To the Bible men will return; and why? Because they cannot do without it.
And we forget because we must and not because we will.
Resolve to be thyself: and know that he who finds himself, loses his misery.
The nice sense of measure is certainly not one of Nature's gifts to her English children ... we have all of us yielded to infatuation at some moment of our lives.