Of how many women might the history be comprised in those few words - 'she lived, suffered, and was buried'!

Nature is boundless in her powers, exhausting in her variety: the powers of Art and its capabilities of variety in production are bounded on every side. Nature herself, the infinite, has circumscribed the bounds of finite Art. The one is the divinity; the other the priestess.

A cunning mind emphatically delights in its own cunning, and is the ready prey of cunning.

whatever is morally wrong, is equally wrong in man and in woman and no virtue is to be cultivated in one sex, that is not equally required by the other.

If we can still love those who have made us suffer, we love them all the more.

A bond is necessary to complete our being, only we must be careful that the bond does not become bondage.

A good taste in art feels the presence or the absence of merit; a just taste discriminates the degree--the poco piu and the poco meno. A good taste rejects faults; a just taste selects excellences. A good taste is often unconscious; a just taste is always conscious. A good taste may be lowered or spoilt; a just taste can only go on refining more and more.