Perfection is a trifle dull. It is not the least of life's ironies that this, which we all aim at, is better not quite achieved.

Men have an extraordinarily erroneous opinion of their position in nature; and the error is ineradicable.

You know what the critics are. If you tell the truth they only say you're cynical and it does an author no good to get a reputation for cynicism.

I now, weak, old, diseased, poor, dying, hold still my soul in my hands, and I regret nothing.

The essential element of love is a belief in its own eternity.

Like all weak men he laid an exaggerated stress on not changing one's mind.

There is only one way to win hearts and that is to make oneself like unto those of whom one would be loved.