I don't call you handsome, sir, though I love you most dearly: far too dearly to flatter you. Don't flatter me.

I don't call you handsome, sir, though I love you most dearly: far too dearly to flatter you. Don't flatter me.

... while we flatter ourselves that things remain the same, they are changing under our very eyes from year to year, from day to day.

Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: its after-flavor, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned.

If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.

It is vain to say human beings might be satisfied with tranquillity; they must have action, and they will make it if they can not find it.