Nothing Is So Useless As

Books Are Becoming Everything To Me. If I Had At This Moment Any Choice In Life, I Would Bury Myself In One Of Those Immense Libraries...and Never Pass A Waking Hour Without A Book Before Me.

The Business Of The Dramatist Is To Keep Himself Out Of Sight, And To Let Nothing Appear But His Characters. As Soon As He Attracts Notice To His Personal Feelings, The Illusion Is Broken.

The Sweeter Sound Of Woman's Praise.

Oh, Wherefore Come Ye Forth In Triumph From The North, With Your Hands, And Your Feet, And Your Raiment All Red? And Wherefore Doth Your Rout Send Forth A Joyous Shout? And Whence Be The Grapes Of The Wine-press Which Ye Tread?

What Proposition Is There Respecting Human Nature Which Is Absolutely And Universally True? We Know Of Only One,--and That Is Not Only True, But Identical,--that Men Always Act From Self-interest.