Those of our writers who have possessed a vivid personal talent have been paralyzed by a want of social background.

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

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.

Nothing is so soothing to our self-esteem as to find our bad traits in our forebears. It seems to absolve us.

Once you have a point of view all history will back you up.

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.