[Preface to second edition:] ... I am satisfied that if a book is a good one, it is so whatever the sex of the author may be.

A girl's affections should never be won unsought.

Adieu! but let me cherish, still, The hope with which I cannot part. Contempt may wound, and coldness chill, But still it lingers in my heart. And who can tell but Heaven, at last, May answer all my thousand prayers, And bid the future pay the past With joy for anguish, smiles for tears?

I do believe a young lady can't be too careful who she marries.

Preserve me from such cordiality! It is like handling briar-roses and may-blossoms - bright enough to the eye, and outwardly soft to the touch, but you know there are thorns beneath, and every now and then you feel them too; and perhaps resent the injury by crushing them in till you have destroyed their power, though somewhat to the detriment of your own fingers.

Chess-players are so unsociable, they are no company for any but themselves.

There are great books in this world and great worlds in books.