The letter we all love to receive is one that carries so much of the writer’s personality that she seems to be sitting beside us, looking at us directly and talking just as she really would, could she have come on a magic carpet, instead of sending her proxy in ink-made characters on mere paper.

To make a pleasant and friendly impression is not alone good manners, but equally good business.

Manner is personality—the outward manifestation of one’s innate character and attitude toward life.

Excepting a religious ceremonial, there is no occasion where greater dignity of manner is required of ladies and gentlemen both, than in occupying a box at the opera. For a gentleman especially no other etiquette is so exacting.

To be a good sportsman, one must be a stoic and never show rancor in defeat, or triumph in victory, or irritation, no matter what annoyance is encountered. One who can not help sulking, or explaining, or protesting when the loser, or exulting when the winner, has no right to take part in games or contests.

Never think, because you cannot write a letter easily, that it is better not to write at all. The most awkward note imaginable is better than none.

A lady never asks a gentleman to dance, or to go to supper with her.