Every author, however modest, keeps a most outrageous vanity chained like a madman in the padded cell of his breast.

Don't laugh at youth for his affectations; he is only trying on one face after another to find his own.

What humbugs we are, who pretend to live for beauty, and never see the dawn!

What I like in a good author is not what he says but what he whispers.

If it's to be, it's up to me.