If you would have a boy to despise his mother, let her keep him at home, and spend her life in petting him up, and slaving to indulge his follies and caprices.

He never could have loved me, or he would not have resigned me so willingly

If ever I am a mother I will zealously strive against this crime of over- indulgence. I can hardly give it a milder name when I think of the evils it brings.

I cannot get him to write or speak in real, solid earnest. I don't much mind it now, but if it be always so, what shall I do with the serious part of myself?

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

I cannot love a man who cannot protect me.

My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring and carried aloft on the wings of the breeze.