Blessed be sleep! We are all young then; we are all happy. Then our dead are living.
Too much indulgence has ruined thousands of children; too much love not one.
Every father knows at once too much and too little about his own son.
I am getting sick of people. I am falling in love with things. They hold their tongues.
I hate the word proper. If you tell me a thing is not proper, I immediately feel the most rabid desire to go 'neck and heels' into it.
The term 'lady' has been so misused, that I like better the old-fashioned term, woman.