The broken heart. You think you will die, but you just keep living, day after day after terrible day.

She better liked to see him free and happy, even than to have him near her, because she loved him better than herself.

Be natural my children. For the writer that is natural has fulfilled all the rules of art.

... Take another glass of wine, and excuse my mentioning that society as a body does not expect one to be so strictly conscientious in emptying one's glass, as to turn it bottom upwards with the rim on one's nose.

"Well," said my aunt, "this is his boy - his son. He would be as like his father as it's possible to be, if he was not so like his mother, too."

I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss, and, in their struggles to be truly free, in their triumphs and defeats, through long years to come, I see the evil of this time and of the previous time of which this is the natural birth, gradually making expiation for itself and wearing out.

I have always thought of Christmas time... as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time.