He hadn’t a single redeeming vice.
There is no country in the world where machinery is so lovely as in America.
I threw the pearl of my soul into a cup of wine. I went down the primrose path to the sound of flutes. I lived on honeycomb.
The typewriting machine, when played with expression, is no more annoying than the piano when played by a sister or near relation.
The study of law is sublime, and its practice vulgar.
There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written.