No Lady Is Ever A Gentleman.

Time Changes All Things And Cultivates Even In Herself An Appreciation Of Irony, And, Therefore, Why Shouldn't I Have Changed A Trifle?

What Am I That I Am Called Upon To Have Prejudices Concerning The Universe?

There Is No Escaping, At Times, The Gloomy Suspicion That Fiddling With Pens And Ink Is, After All, No Fit Employment For A Grown Man.

While It Is Well Enough To Leave Footprints On The Sands Of Time, It Is Even More Important To Make Sure They Point In A Commendable Direction.

A Man Of Genuine Literary Genius, Since He Possesses A Temperament Whose Susceptibilities Are Of Wider Area Than Those Of Any Other, Is Inevitably Of All People The One Most Variously Affected By His Surroundings. And It Is He, In Consequence, Who Of All People Most Faithfully And Compactly Exhibits The Impress Of His Times And His Times' Tendencies, Not Merely In His Writings Where It Conceivably Might Be Just Predetermined Affectation But In His Personality.