He has left off reading altogether, to the great improvement of his originality.

We are nothing; less than nothing, and dreams. We are only what might have been.

The man must have a rare recipe for melancholy, who can be dull in Fleet Street.

We are ashamed at the sight of a monkey--somehow as we are shy of poor relations.

Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and to have nonsense respected.

Tis the privilege of friendship to talk nonsense, and have her nonsense respected.

Nothing puzzles me more than the time and space; and yet nothing troubles me less.

I am, in plainer words, a bundle of prejudices - made up of likings and dislikings.

Summer, as my friend Coleridge waggishly writes, has set in with its usual severity.

Clap an extinguisher upon your irony if you are unhappily blessed with a vein of it.

What have I gained by health? Intolerable dullness. What by mode meals? A total blank.

No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound us, All earth forgot, and all heaven around us.

An album is a garden, not for show Planted, but use; where wholesome herbs should grow.

Farewell, farewell to thee, Araby's daughter! Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea.

To pile up honey upon sugar, and sugar upon honey, to an interminable tedious sweetness.

Man is a gaming animal. He must always be trying to get the better in something or other.

Here cometh April again, and as far as I can see the world hath more fools in it than ever.

The measure of choosing well, is, whether a man likes and finds good in what he has chosen.

To be thankful for what we grasp exceeding our proportion is to add hypocrisy to injustice.

Reader, if you are gifted with nerves like mine, aspire to any character but that of a wit.

You do not play then at whist, sir? Alas, what a sad old age you are preparing for yourself!

Whose wit in the combat, as gentle as bright, Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade.

Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert thou not born in my father's dwelling?

Dream not ... of having tasted all the grandeur and wildness of fancy till you have gone mad!

Not childhood alone, but the young man till thirty, never feels practically that he is mortal.

Of all sound of all bells... most solemn and touching is the peal which rings out the Old Year.

Don't introduce me to that man! I want to go on hating him, and I can't hate a man whom I know.

Riddle of destiny, who can show What thy short visit meant, or know What thy errand here below?

In every thing that relates to science, I am a whole Encyclopaedia behind the rest of the world.

And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen, The maiden herself will steal after it soon.

Shall I ask the brave soldier who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree?

There was a little man, and he had a little soul; And he said, Little Soul, let us try, try, try!

The greatest pleasure I know is to do a good action by stealth and have it found out by accident.

Oh, breathe not his name! let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid

Positively, the best thing a man can have to do, is nothing, and next to that perhaps — good works.

He who hath not a dram of folly in his mixture hath pounds of much worse matter in his composition.

Your absence of mind we have borne, till your presence of body came to be called in question by it.

And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.

There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet.

Newspapers always excite curiosity. No one ever puts one down without the feeling of disappointment.

When true hearts lie wither'd And fond ones are flown, Oh, who would inhabit This bleak world alone?

I even think that, sentimentally, I am disposed to harmony. But organically I am incapable of a tune.

I hate the man who eats without knowing what he’s eating. I doubt his taste in more important things.

The teller of a mirthful tale has latitude allowed him. We are content with less than absolute truth.

The greatest pleasure I know, is to do a good action by stealth, and to have it found out by accident.

When thus the heart is in a vein Of tender thought, the simplest strain Can touch it with peculiar power.

Separate from the pleasure of your company, I don't much care if I never see another mountain in my life.

I have been trying all my life to like Scotchmen, and am obliged to desist from the experiment in despair.

We all have some taste or other, of too ancient a date to admit of our remembering it was an acquired one.

In the indications of female poverty there can be no disguise. No woman dresses below herself from caprice.

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