I warmed both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart.

The most pernicious of absurdities is that weak, blind, stupid faith is better than the constant practice of every human virtue.

I strove with none, for none was worth my strife. Nature I loved and, next to Nature, Art: I warm'd both hands before the fire of life; It sinks, and I am ready to depart.

Wrong is but falsehood put in practice.

A good cook is the peculiar gift of the gods. He must be a perfect creature from the brain to the palate, from the palate to the finger's end.

The happiest of pillows is not that which love first presses! it is that which death has frowned on and passed over.

A critic is never too severe when he only detects the faults of an author. But he is worse than too severe when, in consequence of this detection, be presumes to place himself on a level with genius.