There is a sort of jealousy which needs very little fire; it is hardly a passion, but a blight bred in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism.

I like not only to be loved, but also to be told that I am loved. I am not sure that you are of the same mind. But the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave. This is the world of light and speech, and I shall take leave to tell you that you are very dear.

The scornful nostril and the high head gather not the odors that lie on the track of truth.

One can say everything best over a meal.

Many an irritating fault, many an unlovely oddity, has come of a hard sorrow.

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

I like trying to get pregnant. I'm not so sure about childbirth.