C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


  • May never lady press his lips, his proffer’d love returning,
  • Who makes a furnace of his mouth, and keeps his chimney burning;
  • May each true woman shun his sight, for fear his fumes should choke her,
  • And none but those who smoke themselves have kisses for a smoker.
  • Anonymous.

  • A club there is of smokers—dare you come
  • To that close, clouded, hot, narcotic room?
  • When, midnight past, the very candles seem
  • Dying for air, and give a ghastly gleam;
  • When curling fumes in lazy wreaths arise,
  • And prosing topers rub their winking eyes.
  • Crabbe.