I attribute the quarrelsome nature of the Middle Ages young men entirely to the want of the soothing weed.

It was a lovely landscape. It was idyllic, poetical, and it inspired me. I felt good and noble. I felt I didn't want to be sinful and wicked anymore. I would come and live here, and never do any more wrong, and lead a blameless, beautiful life, and have silver hair when I got old, and all that sort of thing.

Rest and a complete change, said George. The overstrain upon our brains has produced a general depression throughout the system. Change of scene, and absence of the necessity for thought, will restore the mental equilibrium.

Aunt Maria would mildly observe that, next time Uncle Podger was going to hammer a nail into the wall, she hoped he'd let her know in time, so that she could make arrangements to go and spend a week with her mother while it was being done.

Let us play the game of life as sportsmen, pocketing our winnings with a smile, leaving our losings with a shrug.

We drink one another's health and spoil our own.

It seems to be the rule of this world. Each person has what he doesn't want, and other people have what he does want.

A ‘Bummel', I explained, I should describe as a journey, long or short, without an end.

It is wonderful what an insight into domestic economy being really hard up gives one.

People who have tried it, tell me that a clear conscience makes you very happy and contented; but a full stomach does the business quite as well, and is cheaper, and more easily obtained. One feels so forgiving and generous after a substantial and well-digested meal—so noble-minded, so kindly-hearted.

Seek out some retired and old-world spot, far from the madding crowd, and dream away a sunny week among its drowsy lanes - some half-forgotten nook, hidden away by the fairies, out of reach of the noisy world - some quaint-perched eyrie on the cliffs of Time, from whence the surging waves of the nineteenth century would sound far-off and faint.

We are so bound together that no man can labor for himself alone. Each blow he strikes in his own behalf helps to mold the universe.

Well, to tell you the truth, my man's chucked me out. So's mine! I say, I don't think much of this inn, do you? What.

When George is hanged, Harris wil be the worst packer in this world.

Harris said he thought it would be humpy. He said he knew the sort of place I meant; where everybody went to bed at eight o'clock, and you couldn't get a Referee for love or money, and had to walk ten miles to get your baccy. No, said Harris, if you want rest and change, you can't beat a sea trip.

What I am looking for is a blessing not in disguise.

There is this advantage about German beer: it does not make a man drunk as the word drunk is understood in England. There is nothing objectionable about him; he is simply tired. He does not want to talk; he wants to be let alone, to go to sleep; it does not matter where— anywhere.

It is always the best policy to tell the truth, unless of course you are an exceptionally good liar.

Harris said, however, that the river would suit him to a "T." I don't know what a "T" is (except a sixpenny one, which includes bread-and- butter and cake AD LIB., and is cheap at the price, if you haven't had any dinner). It seems to suit everybody, however, which is greatly to its credit.

To tell you the truth - mind, this is strictly between ourselves, please; I shouldn't like your wife to know I said it - the women folk don't understand these things; but between you and me, you know, I think it does a man good to swear.

The more the other party thinks he's having his way, the easier always to get your own.

And we would all try to do it in our heads, and all arrive at different results, and sneer at one another.

Parliament may as well close down if a few men between them are to be allowed to own the entire Press of the country, and stifle every voice that does not shout their bidding.

It was quick work. He came, he saw, I conquered!

We differ widely enough in our nobler qualities. It is in our follies that we are at one.

There is nothing more remarkable in human sociology than our attitude towards the institution of marriage.

I can't sit still and see another man slaving and working. I want to get up and superintend, and walk round with my hands in my pockets, and tell him what to do. It is my energetic nature. I can't help it.

It is always good policy to tell the truth unless of course you are an exceptionally good liar.

It is impossible to enjoy idling thoroughly unless one has plenty of work to do. There is no fun in doing nothing when you have nothing to do. Wasting time is merely an occupation then, and a most exhausting one. Idleness, like kisses, to be sweet must be stolen.

There is no pathos in real misery, no luxury in real grief.

Nobody ever loved as he loves, and so, of course, the rest of the world's experience can be no guide in his case.

Students would have no need to walk the hospitals, if they had me. I was a hospital in myself. All they need do would be to walk round me, and, after that, take their diploma. Then.

Now, I will drink no German beer. The white wine of the country, with a little soda-water; perhaps occasionally a glass of Ems or potash. But beer, never — or, at all events, hardly ever. It is a good and useful resolution, which I recommend to all travellers.

Being poor is a mere trifle. It is being known to be poor that is the sting.

It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work: it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours. I love to keep it by me: the idea of getting rid of it nearly breaks my heart.

There were four of us--George, and William Samuel Harris, and myself, and Montmorency.

There must be something ghostly in the air of Christmas — something about the close, muggy atmosphere that draws up the ghosts, like the dampness of the summer rains brings out the frogs and snails.

What readers ask nowadays in a book is that it should improve, instruct and elevate. This book wouldn't elevate a cow. I cannot conscientiously recommend it for any useful purposes whatever. All I can suggest is that when you get tired of reading "the best hundred books," you may take this for half an hour. It will be a change.

Swearing relieves the feelings - that is what swearing does. I explained this to my aunt on one occasion, but it didn't answer with her. She said I had no business to have such feelings.

It all comes of being so attractive, as the old lady said when she was struck by lightning.

One we discover how to appreciate the timeless values in our daily experiences, we can enjoy the best things in life.

Throw the lumber over, man!

Each person has what he doesn't want, and other people have what he does want. Married.

Let us have done with vain regrets and longings for the days that never will be ours again. Our work lies in front, not behind us; and "Forward!" is our motto.

Time is but the shadow of the world upon the background of Eternity.

Ambition is only vanity ennobled.

It always does seem to me that I am doing more work than I should do. It is not that I object to the work, mind you; I like work; it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours.

To be amiable and cheerful is a good religion for a work-a-day world. We are so busy not killing, not stealing, not coveting our neighbour's wife, we have not the time to be even just to one another for the little while we are together here.

You can never rouse Harris. There is no poetry about Harries - no wild yearning for the unattainable. Harris never "weeps, he knows not why" If Harris's eyes fill with tears, you can bet it is because Harris has been eating raw onions, or has put too much Worcester over his chop.