Love is only a dirty trick played on us to achieve continuation of the species.

As if a woman ever loved a man for his virtue.

All important persons have about them someone in a subordinate position who has their ear. These dependents are very susceptible to slights, and, when they are not treated as they think they should be, will by well-directed shafts, constantly repeated, poison the minds of their patrons against those who have provoked their animosity. It is well to keep in with them.

Life isn't long enough for love and art.

I daresay one profits more by the mistakes one makes off one's own bat than by doing the right thing on somebody's else advice.

An art is only great and significant if it is one that all may enjoy. The art of a clique is but a plaything.

The trouble is that thinking looks like loafing. Who wants to pay people for daydreaming?