London is the epitome of our times, and the Rome of to-day.

We are shut up in schools and college recitation rooms for ten or fifteen years, and come out at last with a bellyful of words and do not know a thing.

The secret of the illusoriness is in the necessity of a succession of moods or objects. Gladly we would anchor, but the anchorageis quicksand.

The highest end of government is the culture of men.

A home kept to the end of display is impossible to all but a few women, and their success is dearly bought.

As long as our people quote English standards they dwarf their own proportions.

Do you love me? Means at last do you see the same truth I see? If you do, we are happy together; but when presently one of us passes into the perception of a new truth, we are divorced and the force of all nature cannot hold us to each other.