The hours I spend with you I look upon as sort of a perfumed garden, a dim twilight, and a fountain singing to it. You and you alone make me feel that I am alive. Other men it is said have seen angels, but I have seen thee and thou art enough.

Beauty has wings, and too hastily flies, and love, unrewarded, soon sickens and dies.

But from the hoop's bewitching round, Her very shoe has power to wound.

Honesty needs no pains to set itself off.

The lot of critics is to be remembered by what they failed to understand.

Faith goes out through the window when beauty comes in at the door.

Now, in my opinion, a woman has no business with Power-Power admits no equal, and dismisses friendship for flattery. Besides, it keeps the men at a distance, and that is not always what we wish.