... indefinite visions of ambition are weak against the ease of doing what is habitual or beguilingly agreeable.

And when a woman's will is as strong as the man's who wants to govern her, half her strength must be concealment.

For what is love itself, for the one we love best? An enfolding of immeasurable cares which yet are better than any joys outside our love.

It is the way with half the truth amidst which we live, that it only haunts us and makes dull pulsations that are never born into sound.

Sympathetic people often don't communicate well, they back reflected images which hide their own depths.

Family likeness has often a deep sadness in it.

Alas! the scientific conscience had got into the debasing company of money obligation and selfish respects.