A girl of eighteen imagines the feelings behind the face that has moved her with its sympathetic youth as easily as primitive people imagined the humors of the gods in fair weather. What is she to believe in if not in this vision woven from within?

We are led on, like little children, by a way we know not.

It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.

So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.

... in no part of the world is genteel visiting founded on esteem, in the absence of suitable furniture and complete dinner-service.

Great feelings will often take the aspect of error, and great faith the aspect of illusion.

I know forgiveness is a man's duty, but, to my thinking, that can only mean as you're to give up all thoughts o' taking revenge: it can never mean as you're t' have your old feelings back again, for that's not possible.