Your Tears Come Easy, When

I Have Noticed That The Christianity Of A Certain Class Of Respectable People Begins When They Open Their Prayer-books At Eleven O'clock On Sunday Morning, And Ends When They Shut Them Up Again At One O'clock On Sunday Afternoon. Nothing So Astonishes And Insults Christians Of This Sort As Reminding Them Of Their Christianity On A Week-day.

Pedants, Who Have The Least Knowledge To Be Proud Of, Are Impelled Most By Vanity.

The Future Of English Fiction May Rest With This Unknown Public - A Reading Public Of Three Millions Which Lies Right Out Of The Pale Of True Literary Civilization - Which Is Now Waiting To Be Taught The Difference Between A Good Book And A Bad.

...it Will Always Remain My Private Persuasion That Nature Was Absorbed In Making Cabbages When Mrs. Vesey Was Born, And That The Good Lady Suffered The Consequences Of A Vegetable Preoccupation In The Mind Of The Mother Of Us All.

I Roused Myself From The Book Which I Was Dreaming Over Rather Than Reading, And Left My Chambers To Meet The Cool Night Air In The Suburbs.