Heroes are very human, most of them; very easily touched by praise.

Of all the objects of hatred, a woman once loved is the most hateful.

A man's work is rather the needful supplement to himself than the outcome of it.

Women who love the same man have a kind of bitter freemasonry.

The critic who justly admires all kinds of things simultaneously cannot love any one of them.

I need no dictionary of quotations to remind me that the eyes are the windows of the soul.

It distresses me, this failure to keep pace with the leaders of thought, as they pass into oblivion.