Three months seems to me quite a reasonable time to complete a book, if one can get right down to it.

At the small table, sitting very upright, was one of the ugliest old ladies he had ever seen. It was an ugliness of distinction - it fascinated rather than repelled.

A man when he is making up to anybody can be cordial and gallant and full of little attentions and altogether charming. But when a man is really in love he can't help looking like a sheep.

Words are such uncertain things, they so often sound well but mean the opposite of what one thinks they do.

Wonderful things, horses. Never know what they will do, or won't do.

He was very much a man of moods, possibly owing to what is styled the artistic temperment. I have never seen, myself, why the possession of artistic ability should be supposed to excuse a man from a decent exercise of self-control.

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world.