A woman too often reasons from her heart; hence two-thirds of her mistakes and her troubles.

Death is the only monastery; the tomb is the only cell, and the grave that adjoins the convent is the bitterest mock of its futility.

Poets alone are sure of immortality; they are the truest diviners of nature.

Books are but waste paper unless we spend in action the wisdom we get from thought.

Jewelry and profuse ornaments are unmistakable evidences of vulgarity.

Whatever the number of a man's friends, there will be times in his life when he has one too few; but if he has only one enemy, he is lucky indeed if he has not one too many.

If you are in doubt whether to write a letter or not, don't. And the advice applies to many doubts in life besides that of letter writing.