Carolyn Wells

“A noble theme!” the tyro cried; And straightway scribbled off a sonnet. “A noble theme,” the poet sighed; “I am not fit to write upon it.”

I love the Christmas-tide, and yet, I notice this, each year I live; I always like the gifts I get, But how I love the gifts I give!

The books we think we ought to read are poky, dull, and dry; The books that we would like to read we are ashamed to buy; The books that people talk about we never can recall; And the books that people give us — oh, they’re the worst of all!

A blunder at the right moment is better than cleverness at the wrong time.

A guilty conscience is the mother of invention.

Of two evils choose the prettier.

A cynic is a man who looks at the world with a monocle in his mind's eye.