What do you know of my heart? What do you know of anything but your own suffering?

His own enjoyment, or his own ease, was, in every particular, his ruling principle.

For what do we live, but to make sport by subjecting our neighbors to endless discretionary review for minor additions?

What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.

A woman of seven and twenty, said Marianne, after pausing a moment, can never hope to feel or inspire affection again.

Where the heart is really attached, I know very well how little one can be pleased with the attention of any body else.

Oh! write, write. Finish it at once. Let there be an end of this suspense. Fix, commit, condemn yourself.