As I lounged in the Park, or strolled down Piccadilly, I used to look at everyone who passed me, and wonder, with mad curiosity, what sort of lives they led. some of them fascinated me. Others filled me with terror.

Society, as we have constituted it, will have no place for me, has none to offer; but Nature, whose sweet rains fall on unjust and just alike, will have clefts in the rocks where I may hide, and secret valleys in whose silence I may weep undisturbed. She will hang the night with stars so that I may walk abroad in the darkness without stumbling, and send the wind over my footprints so that none may track me to my hurt: she will cleance me in the great waters, and with bitter herbs make me whole.

There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves we feel no one else has a right to blame us.

The dim roar of London was like the bourdon note of a distant organ

To have friends, you know, one need only be good-natured; but when a man has no enemy left there must be something mean about him.

The exquisite art of idleness, one of the most important things that any University can teach.

What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise