It is painful to be told that anything is very fine and not be able to feel that it is fine--something like being blind, while people talk of the sky.

Genius is the capacity for receiving and improving by discipline.

There are glances of hatred that stab, and raise no cry of murder.

It is impossible, to me at least, to be poetical in cold weather.

Memory, when duly impregnated with ascertained facts, is sometimes surprisingly fertile.

The memory has as many moods as the temper, and shifts its scenery like a diorama.

The commonest man, who has his ounce of sense and feeling, is conscious of the difference between a lovely, delicate woman and a coarse one. Even a dog feels a difference in her presence.