Nor dread nor hope attend a dying animal; a man awaits his end dreading and hoping all.

I always think a great speaker convinces us not by force of reasoning, but because he is visibly enjoying the beliefs he wants us to accept.

The creations of a great writer are little more than the moods and passions of his own heart, given surnames and Christian names, and sent to walk the earth.

When I clamber to the heights of sleep, Or when I grow excited with wine, suddenly I meet your face.

Accursed who brings to light of day the writings I have cast away.

A pity beyond all telling is hid in the heart of love.

This melancholy London - I sometimes imagine that the souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually. One feels them passing like a whiff of air.