There is no foreign land; it is the traveller only that is foreign.

I had learned to dwell with pleasure, as a beloved daydream, on the thought of the separation of these elements.

We were to found a University magazine. A pair of little, active brothers-Livingstone by name, great skippers on the foot, great rubbers of the hands, who kept a book-shop over against the University building-had been debauched to play the part of publishers. We four were to be conjuct editors and, what was the main point of the concern, to print our own works; while, by every rule of arithmetic-that flatterer of credulity-the adventure must succeed and bring great profit. Well, well: it was a bright vision.

After all, the commonplaces are the great poetic truths.

Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.

In anything fit to be called by the name of reading, the process itself should be absorbing and voluptuous; we should gloat over a book, be rapt clean out of ourselves.

We all know what Parliament is, and we are all ashamed of it.