Alas! we are the sport of destiny.

Taste is something quite different from fashion, superior to fashion.

One tires of a page of which every sentence sparkles with points, of a sentimentalist who is always pumping the tears from his eyes or your own.

I want a sofa, as I want a friend, upon which I can repose familiarly. If you can't have intimate terms and freedom with one and the other, they are of no good.

There is a skeleton in every house.

Hint at the existence of wickedness in a light, easy, and agreeable manner, so that nobody's fine feelings may be offended.

Time passes, Time the consoler, Time the anodyne.