No sooner does a great man depart, and leave his character as public property, than a crowd of little men rushes towards it. There they are gathered together, blinking up to it with such vision as they have, scanning it from afar, hovering round it this way and that, each cunningly endeavoring, by all arts, to catch some reflex of it in the little mirror of himself.

Wealth of a man is the number of things which he loves and blesses which he is loved and blessed by.

A man lives by believing something.

The suffering man ought really to consume his own smoke; there is no good in emitting smoke till you have made it into fire.

That monstrous tuberosity of civilised life, the capital of England.

Writing is a dreadful labor, yet not so dreadful as Idleness.

No man is born without ambitious worldly desires.