Language Is Fossil Poetry.

I Am At A Loss To Understand Why People Hold Miss Austen's Novels At So High A Rate, Which Seem To Me Vulgar In Tone, Sterile In Artistic Invention, Imprisoned In Their Wretched Conventions Of English Society, Without Genius, Wit, Or Knowledge Of The World. Never Was Life So Pinched And Narrow. ... All That Interests In Any Character [is This]: Has He (or She) The Money To Marry With? ... Suicide Is More Respectable.

Every Hero Becomes A Bore At Last.

The Passive Master Lent His Hand, To The Vast Soul Which O'er Him Planned.

Pride Eradicates All Vices But Itself.

The Best Of Life Is Conversation, And The Greatest Success Is Confidence, Or Perfect Understanding Between Sincere People.