Memory - The Very Skin Of Life.

The Laughter Of Adults Was Always Very Different From The Laughter Of Children. The Former Indicated A Recognition Of The Familiar, But In Children It Came From The Shock Of The New.

Boston - Wrinkled, Spindly-legged, Depleted Of Nearly All Her Spiritual And Cutaneous Oils, Provincial, Self-esteeming - Has Gone On Spending And Spending Her Inflated Bills Of Pure Reputation, Decade After Decade.

Books Give Not Wisdom Where None Was Before. But Where Some Is, There Reading Makes It More.

[on Sociability In Italy:] You May Be A Hermit Or An Innkeeper.

Harvard (across The River In Cambridge) And Boston Are Two Ends Of One Mustache. ... Without The Faculty, The Visitors, The Events That Harvard Brings To The Life Here, Boston Would Be Intolerable To Anyone Except Genealogists, Antique Dealers, And Those Who Find Repletion In A Closed Local Society.