Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven, curtain round the vault of heaven.

Not drunk is he who from the floor - Can rise alone and still drink more; But drunk is They, who prostrate lies, Without the power to drink or rise.

... where the Greeks had modesty, we have cant; where they had poetry, we have cant; where they had patriotism, we have cant; where they had anything that exalts, delights, or adorns humanity, we have nothing but cant, cant, cant.

A book that furnishes no quotations, is me judice, no book, — it is a plaything.

I never failed to convince an audience that the best thing they could do was to go away.

The juice of the grape is the liquid quintessence of concentrated sunbeams.

Clouds on clouds, in volumes driven, curtain round the vault of heaven.