O God! I screamed, and “O God! Again and again; for there before my eyes – pale and shaken, and half fainting, and groping before him with his hands, like a man restored from death – there stood Henry Jekyll.”
We fill the slaughterhouses daily with screams of fear and pain.
The spirit of delight comes in small ways.
The ideal story is that of two people who go into love step for step, with a fluttered consciousness, like a pair of children venturing together into a dark room.
To miss the joy is to miss everything.
When I was a boy, I was a bit puzzled, and hardly knew weather it was myself or the world that was curious and worth looking into. Now I know that it is myself, and stick to that.
But that is the object of long living, that man should cease to care about life.
The difficulty is not to write, but to write what you mean.
I am not afraid of the truth, if any one could tell it me, but I am afraid of parts of it impertinently uttered.
I hate to write, but I love to have written.
Had be been Shakespeare, he would then have written Troilus and Cressidato brand the offending sex; but being only a little dog, he began to bite them.
Cruel children, crying babies, All grow up as geese and gabies, Hated, as their age increases, By their nephews and their nieces.
Every book is, in an intimate sense, a circular-letter to the friends of him who writes it.
The full truth of this odd matter is what the world has long been looking for and the public curiosity is sure to welcome.
Jealousy is the most radical primeval and naked form of admiration in war paint, so to speak.
He is not dead, this friend; not dead, Gone some few, trifling steps ahead, And nearer to the end; So that you, too, once past the bend, Shall meet again, as face to face, this friend You fancy dead.
A proposition of geometry does not compete with life; and a proposition of geometry is a fair and luminous parallel for a work of art. Both are reasonable, both untrue to the crude fact; both inhere in nature, neither represents it.
Let any man speak long enough, he will get believers.
By the time a man gets well into his seventies his continued existence is a mere miracle.
For will anyone dare to tell me that business is more entertaining than fooling among boats? He must have never seen a boat, or never seen an office, who says so.