At dinner there is something too pompous, too formal, for the true ease of Table Talk.

One's intellectual appetite, like the physical, is coarse but dull.

At dinner one is fit only for eating; after dinner only for politics.

But supper was a glorious relic of the ancients.

The bustle of the day had thoroughly wound up the spirit, and every stroke upon the dial-plate of wit was true to the genius of the hour.