Wit as an instrument of revenge is as infamous as art is as a means of sensual titillation.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Wit is the most rascally, contemptible, beggarly thing on the face of the earth.
Interpretation is the revenge of the intellectual upon art.
Wit is the epitaph of an emotion.
Impropriety is the soul of wit.
Wit is so shining a quality that everybody admires it; most people aim at it, all people fear it, and few love it unless in themselves. A man must have a good share of wit himself to endure a great share of it in another.
Art is the final cunning of the human soul which would rather do anything than face the gods.
Wit is an explosion of the compound spirit.
Wit in women is apt to have bad consequences; like a sword without a scabbard, it wounds the wearer and provokes assailants.
Wit is the appearance, the external flash of imagination. Thus its divinity, and the witty character of mysticism.
There is a certain majesty in simplicity which is far above all the quaintness of wit.