Newspapers have degenerated. They may now be absolutely relied upon.

Sins of the flesh are nothing. They are maladies for physicians to cure, if they should be cured. Sins of the soul alone are shameful.

You know we poor artists have to show ourselves in society from time to time, just to remind the public that we are not savages.

Art, like Nature, has her monsters

Down the long and silent street, The dawn, with silver-sandaled feet, Crept like a frightened girl.

When we are happy, we are always good, but when we are good, we are not always happy.

I never saw so many well-dressed, well-fed, business-looking Bohemians in my life.