The tourist may complain of other tourists; but he would be lost without them. He may find them in his way, taking up the best seats in the motors, and the best tables in the hotel dining-rooms; but he grows… — Agnes Repplier Copy Share Image
The tourist may complain of other tourists, but he would be lost without them. — Agnes Repplier Copy Share Image
The dog is guided by kindly instinct to the man or woman whose heart is open to his advances. The cat often leaves the… — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
Letter-writing on the part of a busy man or woman is the quintessence of generosity. — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
To have given pleasure to one human being is a recollection that sweetens life. — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
Believers in political faith-healing enjoy a supreme immunity from doubt. — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
Philadelphians are every whit as mediocre as their neighbors, but they seldom encourage each other in mediocrity by giving it a more agreeable name. — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
When the milk of human kindness turns sour, it is a singularly unpalatable draught. — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
Conversation in its happiest development is a link, equally exquisite and adequate, between mind and mind, a system by which men approach one another… — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
What monstrous absurdities and paradoxes have resisted whole batteries of serious arguments, and then crumbled swiftly into dust before the ringing death-knell of a… — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
the labors of the true critic are more essential to the author, even, than to the reader. — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and… — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
Our dogs will love and admire the meanest of us, and feed our colossal vanity with their uncritical homage. — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
Erudition, like a bloodhound, is a charming thing when held firmly in leash, but it is not so attractive when turned loose upon a… — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
There was no escape from the letter-writer who, a hundred or a hundred and twenty-five years ago, captured a coveted correspondent. It would have… — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
Sleep sweetly in the fields of asphodel, and waken, as of old, to stretch thy languid length, and purr thy soft contentment to the… — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
In the stress of modern life, how little room is left for that most comfortable vanity that whispers in our ears that failures are… — Agnes Repplier Copy Share
