I like to pay taxes. With them, I buy civilization.
Every man is an omnibus in which his ancestors ride.
If I were dying, my last words would be: Have faith and pursue the unknown end.
Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith.
Systems die; instincts remain.
There is one gratification an old author can afford a certain class of critics; that namely, of comparing him as he is with what he was. It is a pleasure to mediocrity to have its superiors brought within range.