It would never do for me to lose my wits in the presence of a man who had none too many of his own.

He who steps on stones is glad to feel the smallest spray of moss beneath his feet.

faces deceive, and the loveliness of youth is not like the loveliness of age - an absolute mirror of the soul within.

Though I have had no adventures, I feel capable of them.

Do we fear suffering or apathy most? Is it from experience or the monotony of a commonplace existence that we quickest flee?

a woman with a secret may be a fascinating study, but she can never be a safe, nor even satisfactory, companion.

It would never do for me to lose my wits in the presence of a man who had none too many of his own.