In war," answered the weaver, "the strong make slaves of the weak, and in peace the rich make slaves of the poor. We must work to live, and they give us such mean wages that we die. We toil for them all day long, and they heap up gold in their coffers, and our children fade away before their time, and the faces of those we love become hard and evil. We tread out the grapes, another drinks the wine. We sow the corn, and our own board is empty. We have chains, though no eye beholds them; and are slaves, though men call us free.

Some things are more precious because they don't last long.

I think life too complex a thing to be settled by these hard and fast rules.

What we have to do, what at any rate it is our duty to do, is to revive the old art of Lying.

This wallpaper is dreadful, one of us will have to go.

I must decline your invitation owing to a subsequent engagement.

When I think of all the harm [the Bible] has done, I despair of ever writing anything to equal it.