Oh, child, men's men: gentle or simple, they're much of a muchness.

A bachelor's children are always young: they're immortal children - always lisping, waddling, helpless, and with a chance of turning out good.

Oh may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence.

To have in general but little feeling, seems to be the only security against feeling too much on any particular occasion.

A proud woman who has learned to submit carries all her pride to the reinforcement of her submission, and looks down with severe superiority on all feminine assumption as unbecoming.

Animals are such agreeable friends.

The vainest woman is never thoroughly conscious of her beauty till she is loved by the man who sets her own passion vibrating in return.