It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work: it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours.
Conceit is the finest armour a man can wear.
I did not intend to write a funny book, at first. I did not know I was a humorist. I have never been sure about it. In the middle ages, I should probably have gone about preaching and got myself burnt or hanged.
We are but the veriest, sorriest slaves of our stomach. Reach not after morality and righteousness, my friends; watch vigilantly your stomach, and diet it with care and judgment.
Better to work and fail than to sleep one’s life away.
Five thousand people in one society might do something, but five thousand societies of one member each would be a holy trouble.
You can always tell the old river hand by the way in which he stretches himself out upon the cushions at the bottom of the boat, and encourages the rowers by telling them anecdotes about the marvellous feats he performed last season...
It’s really extraordinary what a variety of ways of loving there must be. We all do it as it was never done before.
Love is too pure a light to burn long among the noisome gases that we breathe, but before it is choked out we may use it as a torch to ignite the cozy fire of affection.
I could not conjure up one melancholy fancy upon a mutton chop and a glass of champagne.
The odour of Burgundy, and the smell of French sauces, and the sight of clean napkins and long loaves, knocked as a very welcome visitor at the door of our inner man.
If there is one person I do despise more than another, it is the man who does not think exactly the same on all topics as I do...
1lb beefstak, with 1pt bitter beer every 6 hours. 1 ten-mile walk every morning. 1 bed at 11 sharp every night. And don’t stuff your head with things you don’t understand.
I don’t understand German myself. I learned it at school, but forgot every word of it two years after I had left, and have felt much better ever since.
There is no fun in doing nothing when you have nothing to do. Wasting time is merely an occupation then, and a most exhausting one.
Ambition is only vanity ennobled.
Give an average baby a fair chance, and if it doesn’t do something it oughtn’t to a doctor should be called in at once.
What readers ask nowadays in a book is that it should improve, instruct, and elevate. This book wouldn’t elevate a cow.
Angels may be very excellent sort of folk in their own way, but we, poor mortals in our present state, would probably find them precious slow company.
When a man or woman loves to brood over a sorrow and takes care to keep it green in their memory, you may be sure it is no longer a pain to them.