Judging from the letters I've received from obviously feeble-minded persons who wish I would write another These Old Shades, it ought to sell like hot cakes.

Talking to you is like -- like talking to an eel!" "No, is it? I've never tried to talk to an eel. Isn't it as waste of time?" "Not such a waste of time as talking to you!

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

I do not want a boy. I only want Monseigneur!

Eccentricity may be diverting, Mama, but it is out of place in a wife: certainly in my wife!

Miss Grantham's sense of humour got the better of her at this point, and, tottering towards a chair, she sank into it, exclaiming in tragic accents:'Oh Heavens! I am betrayed!' His lordship blenched; both he and miss Laxton regarded her with guilty dismay. Miss Grantham buried her face in her handkerchief, and uttered one shattering word: 'Wretch!

As for the fan, she agreed that it was a most amusing trifle: just what she would wish to buy for herself, if it had not been so excessively ugly!