Wordsworth went to the Lakes, but he was never a lake poet. He found in stones the sermons he had already hidden there.

Nothing spoils romance so much as a sense of humor in the woman

the costume of the nineteenth century is detestable. It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only real colour-element left in modern life.

In America the President reigns for four years, and Journalism governs forever and ever.

Just to let you know that the buffet car will be closing for stocktaking in five minutes. The next station stop is Chesterfield.

A man can be happy with any woman, as long as he does not love her.

This ghastly state of things is what you call Bunburying, I suppose? Algernon. Yes, and a perfectly wonderful Bunbury it is. The most wonderful Bunbury I have ever had in my life. Jack. Well, you've no right whatsoever to Bunbury here. Algernon. That is absurd. One has a right to Bunbury anywhere one chooses. Every serious Bunburyist knows that.