What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have never been discovered.
Common sense is genius dressed in its working clothes.
The torpid artist seeks inspiration at any cost, by virtue or by vice, by friend or by fiend, by prayer or by wine.
When the eyes say one thing, and the tongue another, a practiced man relies on the language of the first.
Infancy conforms to nobody: all conform to it, so that one babe commonly makes four or five out of the adults who prattle and play to it.
People do not deserve to have good writing, they are so pleased with bad.
Sanity is very rare; every man almost and every woman has a dash of madness.
We are too civil to books. For a few golden sentences we will turn over and actually read a volume of four or five hundred pages.
'Tis a superstition to insist on a special diet. All is made at last of the same chemical atoms.
No orator can top the one who can give good nicknames.
Beauty is an outward gift, which is seldom despised, except by those to whom it has been refused.
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