I have been so long master that I would be master still, or at least that none other should be master of me.

I do not, as you know, take sufficient interest in dress to be able to describe the new fashions. Dress is a bore.

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.

We are all drifting reefwards now, and faith is our only anchor.

I saw the Count lying within the box upon the earth, some of which the rude falling from the cart had scattered over him. He was deathly pale, just like a waxen image, and the red eyes glared with the horrible vindictive look which I knew so well.

There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part.

But this night our feet must tread in thorny paths, or later, and for ever, the feet you love must walk in paths of flame!