A man with an invention on which he has spent his life, but has no means to get it developed for the good of humanity – or even patented for himself – must feel the pinch of poverty very acutely.

One would think that in writing about literary men and matters there would be no difficulty in finding a title for one’s essay, or that any embarrassment which might arise would be from excess of material. I find this, however, far from being the case.

Cultivating literature as I do upon a little oatmeal, and driving, when in a position to be driven at all, in that humble vehicle, the ’bus, I have had, perhaps, exceptional opportunities for observing their mutual position and behaviour; and it is very peculiar.

There are, it is true, at present no great prizes in literature such as are offered by the learned professions, but there are quite as many small ones – competences; while, on the other hand, it is not so much of a lottery.

One forgives the critic – perhaps – but never the good-natured friend.

Nature of course is the best guide in the matter of choosing a pursuit.

A man with an invention on which he has spent his life, but has no means to get it developed for the good of humanity - or even patented for himself - must feel the pinch of poverty very acutely.

It is better, however, for his own reputation that the story-teller should risk a few actions for libel on account of these unfortunate coincidences than that he should adopt the melancholy device of using blanks or asterisks.

To the truly benevolent mind, indeed, nothing is more satisfactory than to hear of a miser denying himself the necessaries of life a little too far and ridding us of his presence altogether.

The idea of bringing young people up to Literature is doubtless calculated to raise the eyebrows almost as much as the suggestion of bringing them up to the Stage.