The moment when a man's head drops off is seldom or never, I am inclined to think, precisely the most agreeable of his life.

It will startle you to see what slaves we are to by-gone times-to Death, if we give the matter the right word! ... We read in Dead Men's books! We laugh at Dead Men's jokes, and cry at Dead Men's pathos! . . . Whatever we seek to do, of our own free motion, a Dead Man's icy hand obstructs us!

Amid the seeming confusion of our mysterious world , individuals are so nicely adjusted to a system, and systems to one another and to a whole, that, by stepping aside for a moment, a man exposes himself to a fearful risk of losing his place forever. (Wakefield)

it is a curious subject of observation and inquiry, whether hatred and love be not the same thing at bottom.

I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all the daylight hours in the open air.

Life is made up of marble and mud.

Those with whom we can apparently become well acquainted in a few moments are generally the most difficult to rightly know and to understand.