It is my fate and perhaps my temperament to sign agreements with fools.
How can I know what I think till I see what I say?
I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.
One's favorite book is as elusive as one's favorite pudding.
Italy and London are the only places where I don't feel to exist on sufferance.
This solitude opressed her; she was accustomed to have her thoughts confirmed by others or, at all events, contradicted; it was too dreadful not to know whether she was thinking right or wrong.