The more one analyses people, the more all reasons for analysis disappear. Sooner or later one comes to that dreadful universal thing called human nature.

Through our sunless lanes creeps Poverty with her hungry eyes, and Sin with his sodden face follows close behind her. Misery wakes us in the morning and Shame sits with us at night.

The gods bestowed on Max [Beerbohm] the gift of perpetual old age.

To toil for a hard master is bitter, but to have no master to toil for is more bitter still.

but the bravest man among us is afraid of himself

The only one you need in your life is that person who shows you he needs you in his.

Travel ennobles the spirit and does away with our prejudices.