Beware of jokes from which we go away hollow and ashamed.

New York is a sucked orange. All conversation is at an end, when we have discharged ourselves of a dozen personalities, domestic or imported, which make up our American existence.

A man is like a bit of Labrador spar, which has no lustre as you turn it in your hand until you come to a particular angle; then it shows deep and beautiful colors. There is no adaptation or universal applicability in men, but each has his special Talent, and the mastery of Successful men consists in adroitly keeping themselves where and when that turn shall be oftenest to be practiced.

We are of different opinions at different hours, but we always may be said to be at heart on the side of truth.

O Lord! Unhappy is the man whom man can make unhappy.

It depends little on the object, much on the mood, in art.

We are the prisoners of ideas.