The Marquesan girls dance all over; not only do their feet dance, but their arms, hands, fingers, ay, their very eyes seem to dance in their heads.

How feeble is all language to describe the horrors we inflict upon these wretches, whom we mason up in the cells of our prisons, and condemn to perpetual solitude in the very heart of our population.

War being the greatest of evils, all its accessories necessarily partake of the same character.

True places are not found on maps.

Surely a gentle sister is the second best gift to a man; and it is first in point of occurrence; for the wife comes after.

Where does any novelist pick up any character? For the most part, in town, to be sure.

Both the ancestry and posterity of Grief go further than the ancestry and posterity of Joy.