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

Alas, for the effects of bad tea and bad temper!

Earth reserves no blessing For the unblessed of Heaven!

Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.

I cannot love thee; thou 'rt worse than thy brother. Go, say thy prayers, child, and ask God's pardon. I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared thee!

Hush, my darling! Hush, hush, Catherine! I'll stay. If he shot me so, I'd expire with a blessing on my lips.

Thoughts are tyrants that return again and again to torment us.