Good Taste Is His Religion, His Morality,

Every Other Species Of Talent Carries With It Its Eternity; We Enjoy The Work Of The Poet, The Painter, The Sculptor, Only As Thousands Will Do After Us; But The Actor - His Memory Is With His Generation, And That Passes Away.

How Disappointment Tracks The Steps Of Hope.

I Do Not Think That Life Has A Suspense More Sickening Than That Of Expecting A Letter Which Does Not Come.

Nothing But Love Can Answer To Love; No Affection, No Kindness, No Care, Can Supply Its Place: It Is Its Own Sweet Want.

One Would Think That An Unsuccessful Volume Was Like A Degree In The School Of Reviewing. One Unread Work Makes The Judge Bitter Enough; But A Second Failure, And He Is Quite Desperate In His Damnation. I Do Believe One Half Of The Injustice - The Severity Of 'the Ungentle Craft' Originates In Its Own Want Of Success: They Cannot Forgive The Popularity Which Has Passed Them Over.