The art of motherhood involves much silent, unobtrusive self-denial, an hourly devotion which finds no detail too minute.

The greater a man's talents, the more marked his idiosyncracies. Yet in the provinces originality is considered perilously close to lunacy.

Stupidity assumes two forms, it speaks or is silent. Mute stupidity is bearable.

Women, perhaps even require a little hypocrisy.

Women see everything or nothing according to the inclination of their hearts. Love is their sole light.

A young bride is like a plucked flower; but a guilty wife is like a flower that had been walked over.

The sanctity of womanhood is incompatible with social liberty and social claims; and for a woman emancipation means corruption.