I like the glitter of shops and gas-lamps, and the throng of people in the light of them.

One understands what the Roman citizen felt.

I like driving about the streets in a hansom.

There are some one never gets tired of Oxford Street, for instance, and the turn out of Leicester Square into Coventry Street, with the blaze of Piccadilly Circus ahead.

One hears that poets starve in London, and are happy; I can believe it.