Writing Is Busy Idleness.

Life Seems So Vulgar, So Easily Content With The Commonplace Things Of Every Day, And Yet It Always Nurses And Cherishes Certain Higher Claims In Secret, And Looks About For The Means Of Satisfying Them.

It Matters Little Whether A Man Be Mathematically Or Philologically Or Artistically Cultivated, So He Be But Cultivated.

I Let Everyone Follow His Own Bent, That I May Be Free To Follow Mine.

Lay Hold Of Life With Both Hands, Whenever Thou Mayest Seize It, It Is Interesting.

All Professional Men Are Handicapped By Not Being Allowed To Ignore Things Which Are Useless.