There is never a Jewish community without its scholars, but where Jews may not be both intellectuals and Jews, they prefer to remain Jews.

The Wandering Jew in me seeks forgetfulness. I am not afraid to live on and on, if only I do not have to remember too much.

My days in the slums were pregnant with possibilities: it only needed the ripeness of events to make them fruit forth in rcalities.

It is only that my illusion is more real to me than reality. And so do we often build our world on an error, and cry out that the universe is falling to pieces, if any one but lift a finger to replace the error by truth.

Steadily as I worked to win America, America advanced to lie at my feet. I was an heir, on Dover Street, awaiting maturity. I was a princess waiting to be led to the throne.