Travel Quotes by Agnes Repplier

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

Letter-writing on the part of a busy man or woman is the quintessence of generosity.

— Agnes Repplier

To have given pleasure to one human being is a recollection that sweetens life.

— Agnes Repplier

Believers in political faith-healing enjoy a supreme immunity from doubt.

— Agnes Repplier

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

When the milk of human kindness turns sour, it is a singularly unpalatable draught.

— Agnes Repplier

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

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

the labors of the true critic are more essential to the author, even, than to the reader.

— Agnes Repplier

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

Our dogs will love and admire the meanest of us, and feed our colossal vanity with their uncritical homage.

— Agnes Repplier

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

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

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

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