Oh, those women! They nurse and cuddle their presentiments, and make darlings of their ugliest thoughts.

Titles are abolished; and the American Republic swarms with men claiming and bearing them.

Is beauty beautiful, or is it only our eyes that make it so?

If a secret history of books could be written, and the author's private thoughts and meanings noted down alongside of his story, how many insipid volumes would become interesting, and dull tales excite the reader!

Where is truth, forsooth, and who knoweth it? Is Beauty beautiful, or is it only our eyes that make it so? Does Venus squint? Has she got a splay-foot, red hair, and a crooked back? Anoint my eyes, good Fairy Puck, so that I may ever consider the Beloved Object a paragon! Above all, keep on anointing my mistress's dainty peepers with the very strongest ointment, so that my noddle may ever appear lovely to her, and that she may continue to crown my honest ears with fresh roses!

You, who are ashamed of your poverty, and blush for your calling, are a snob; as are you who boast of your wealth.

Next to eating good dinners, a healthy man with a benevolent turn of mind, must like, I think, to read about them.