The wide wonder of Broadway is disconsolate in the daytime; but gaudily glorious at night, with a milling crowd filling sidewalk and roadway, silent, going up, going down, between upstanding banks of brilliant lights, each building braided and embossed with glowing, many-coloured bulbs of man-rayed luminance. A glowing valley of the shadow of life. The strolling crowd went slowly by through the kinematically divine thoroughfare of New York.

Here, with whitened hair, desires failing, strength ebbing out of him, with the sun gone down and with only the serenity and the calm warning of the evening star left to him, he drank to Life, to all it had been, to what it was, to what it would be. Hurrah!

All the world's a stage and most of us are desperately unrehearsed.

There's nothing so passionate as a vested interest disguised as an intellectual conviction.

The secret to happiness is to find a congenial monotony.

A lament in one ear, maybe, but always a song in the other

That's the Irish all over -- they treat a joke as a serious thing and a serious thing as a joke.