You're hard to please: so many friends and so few cares, and can't make yourself content.

Last night, I was on the threshold of hell. To-day, I am within sight of my heaven. I have my eyes on it: hardly three feet to sever me!

I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free... Why am I so changed? I'm sure I should be myself were I once among the heather on those hills.

The entire world is a collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.

wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

You know that I could as soon forget you as my existence!

He'll love and hate equally under cover, and esteem it a species of impertinence to loved or hated again.