Let us have no machine-made ornament at all; it is all bad and worthless and ugly.

It was the passions about whose origin we deceived ourselves that tyrannized most strongly over us. Our weakest motives were those of whose nature we were conscious. It often happened that when we thought we were experimenting on others we were really experimenting on ourselves.

Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us

Something was dead in each of us,/ And what was dead was Hope.

Conscience makes egotists of us all.

Ah, nowadays we are all of us so hard up, that the only pleasant things to pay are compliments. They're the only things we can pay.