A woman's pity sometimes makes her mad.

I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless.

We have hearts within, Warm, live, improvident, indecent hearts.

It was not the apple on the tree but the pair on the ground that caused the trouble in the garden of Eden.

We overstate the ills of life, and take Imagination... down our earth to rake.

My love for him was so exquisitely pure that if we all were capable of giving and receiving such a beautiful gift the world would be a far more brilliant place; I think we'd all be poets.

Foolishness and criticism are so apt, do so naturally go together!