There is no killing the suspicion that deceit has once begotten.

Death is the king of this world: 'Tis his park where he breeds life to feed him. Cries of pain are music for his banquet.

History repeats itself.

It's no trifle at her time at her time of life to part with a doctor who knows her constitution.

One of the tortures of jealousy is, that it can never turn away its eyes from the thing that pains it.

I think I am quite wicked with roses. I like to gather them, and smell them till they have no scent left.

There are answers which, in turning away wrath, only send it to the other end of the room, and to have a discussion coolly waived when you feel that justice is all on your own side is even more exasperating in marriage than in philosophy.