Fatigue is the safest sleeping draught.
It was a silly, silly dream, being unhappy.
Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice?
Habits and customs are a convenience devised for the support of timid natures who dare not allow their souls free play.
It's not catastrophes, murders, deaths, diseases, that age and kill us; it's the way people look and laugh, and run up the steps of omnibuses.
When the Day of Judgment dawns and people, great and small, come marching in to receive their heavenly rewards, the Almighty will gaze upon the mere bookworms and say to Peter, “Look, these need no reward. We have nothing to give them. They have loved reading.