The worst crimes; are the crimes of the heart

It was for the sake of what had been, rather than what was.

I can always live by my pen.

It would be difficult to say which had seen highest perfection in the other, or which had been the happiest: she, in receiving his declarations and proposals, or he in having them accepted.

Perhaps it is our imperfections that make us so perfect for one another.

I assure you. I have no notion of treating men with such respect. That is the way to spoil them.

For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors and laugh at them in our turn?