What use was it to argue with a little idiot like this? Indeed, peasan — Ouida

"Take hope from the heart of man and you make him a beast of prey."

"Even of death Christianity has made a terror which was unknown to the gay calmness of the Pagan and the stoical repose of the Indian."

"When one has not father, or mother, or brother, and all ones friends have barely bread enough for themselves, life cannot be very easy, nor its crusts very many at any time."

"Brussels is a gay little city that lies as bright within its girdle of woodland as any butterfly that rests upon moss."

"It is the trifles of life that are its bores, after all. Most men can meet ruin calmly, for instance, or laugh when they lie in a ditch with their own knee-joint and their hunters spine broken over the double post and rails: it is the mud that has choked up your horn just when you wanted to rally the pack; its the whip who carries you off to a division just when youve sat down to your turbot; its the ten seconds by which you miss the train; its the dust that gets in your eyes as you go down to Epsom; its the pretty little rose note that went by accident to your house instead of your club, and raised a storm from madame; its the dog that always will run wild into the birds; its the cook who always will season the white soup wrong—it is these that are the bores of life, and that try the temper of your philosophy."