Every man ought to be inquisitive through every hour of his great adventure down to the day when he shall no longer cast a shadow in the sun. For if he dies without a question in his heart, what excuse is there for his continuance?

Clever people seem not to feel the natural pleasure of bewilderment, and are always answering questions when the chief relish of a life is to go on asking them.

One learns little more about a man from the feats of his literary memory than from the feats of his alimentary canal.

Persecution was at least a sign of personal interest. Tolerance is composed of nine parts of apathy to one of brotherly love.

The New York playgoer is a child of nature, and he has an honest and wholesome regard of whatever is atrocious in art.