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

I think I may boast myself to be, with all possible vanity, the most unlearned and uninformed female who ever dared to be an authoress.

There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time.

We are all fools in love.

To be sure you know no actual good of me, but nobody thinks of that when they fall in love.

If I could not be persuaded into doing what I thought wrong, I never will be tricked into it.

Time, time will heal the wound.