We fill the slaughterhouses daily with screams of fear and pain.

The cruelest lies are often told in silence.

There is an idea abroad among moral people that they should make their neighbors good. One person I have to make good: Myself. But my duty to my neighbor is much more nearly expressed by saying that I have to make him happy if I may.

Night is a dead monotonous period under a roof; but in the open world it passes lightly, with its stars and dews and perfumes, and the hours are marked by changes in the face of Nature. What seems a kind of temporal death to people choked between walls and curtains, is only a light and living slumber to the man who sleeps afield.

The full truth of this odd matter is what the world has long been looking for and the public curiosity is sure to welcome.

To forget oneself is to be happy.

It is a golden maxim to cultivate the garden for the nose, and the eyes will take care of themselves.