I will not listen to your verse on an empty stomach!" declared the Vicomte. "You have no soul," said Philippe sadly. "But I have a stomach, and it cries aloud for sustenance." "I weep for you," said Philip. "Why do I waste my poetic gems upon you?

[...]if you talk any more flummery to me, Frederica, I shall give you one of my—er—icy set-downs!”(Alverstoke)

You're only a man! You've not our gifts! I can tell you! Why, a woman can think of a hundred different things at once, all them contradictory!

Do you forget that I am your sister?” “No; I’ve never been granted the opportunity to forget it.

Remind me one day to teach you how to achieve a sneer, Hugh. Yours is too pronounced, and thus but a grimace. It should be but a faint curl of the lips.

There is nothing so mortifying as to fall in love with someone who does not share one's sentiments.

God knows I'm no saint, but I don't think I'm more of a sinner than any other man.