No man should ever publish a book until he has first read it to a woman.

How delightful is the company of generous people, who overlook trifles and keep their minds instinctively fixed on whatever is good and positive in the world around them.

The creative impulses of man are always at war with the possessive impulses.

Never forget that it is we New Yorkers and New Englanders who have the monopoly of whatever oxygen there is in the American continent.

Genius and virtue are to be more often found clothed in gray than in peacock bright.

No one is fit to judge a book until he has rounded Cape Horn in a sailing vessel, until he has bumped into two or three icebergs, until he has been lost in the sands of the desert, until he has spent a few years in the House of the Dead.

The man who has the courage of his platitudes is always a successful man.