“Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.”

It was beautiful and simple, as truly great swindles are.

To a woman nothing seems quite impossible to the powers of the man she worships.

Perhaps there is no happiness in life so perfect as the martyr’s.

We may achieve climate, but weather is thrust upon us.

If man knew how women pass the time when they are alone, they’d never marry.

Young artists must pave their way to Art by drawing pictures for magazine stories that young authors write to pave their way to Literature.

There is a saying that no man has tasted the full flavor of life until he has known poverty, love, and war.

Those whom we first love we seldom marry.

There are a few editor men with whom I am privileged to come in contact. It has not been long since it was their habit to come in contact with me. There is a difference.

Whenever he saw a dollar in another man’s hands he took it as a personal grudge, if he couldn’t take it any other way.

She had become so thoroughly annealed into his life that she was like the air he breathed–necessary but scarcely noticed.

Most wonderful of all are words, and how they make friends one with another.

Whenever my patient begins to count the carriages in her funeral procession I subtract 50 per cent from the curative power of medicines.

Life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.

No friendship is an accident.

What else can you expect from a town thats shut off from the world by the ocean on one side and New Jersey on the other?