If this was love, love had been overrated.

Innocent and infinite are the pleasures of observation.

..her smile, which was her pretty feature, was never so pretty as when her sprightly phrase had a scratch lurking in it.

You wanted to look at life for yourself - but you were not allowed; you were punished for your wish. You were ground in the very mill of the conventional.

No, no—there are depths, depths! The more I go over it, the more I see in it, and the more I see in it, the more I fear. I don’t know what I don’t see—what I don’t fear!

We care what happens to people only in proportion as we know what people are.

A swift carriage, of a dark night, rattling with four horses over roads that one can’t see--that’s my idea of happiness.