One is oneself a fine consequence.

We trust to novels to train us in the practice of great indignations and great generosity.

London is on the whole the most possible form of life.

Sorrow comes in great waves...but rolls over us, and though it may almost smother us, it leaves us. And we know that if it is strong, we are stronger, inasmuch as it passes and we remain.

Her reputation for reading a great deal hung about her like the cloudy envelope of a goddess in an epic.

She had an immense curiosity about life, and was constantly staring and wondering.

I don't care about anything but you, and that's enough for the present. I want you to be happy--not to think of anything sad; only to feel that I'm near you and I love you. Why should there be pain? In such hours as this what have we to do with pain? That's not the deepest thing; there's something deeper.