I've a grand memory for forgetting.

Things looked at patiently from one side after another generally end by showing a side that is beautiful.

It was for one minute that I saw him, but the hair stood upon my head like quills. Sir, if that was my master, why had he a mask upon his face?

To be feared of a thing and yet to do it, is what makes the prettiest kind of a man.

There is but one art, to omit.

A man finds he has been wrong at every stage of his career, only to deduce the astonishing conclusion that he is at last entirely right.

And the true realism, always and everywhere, is that of the poets: to find out where joy resides, and give it a voice far beyond singing. For to miss the joy is to miss all.