In spite of the honestest efforts to annihilate my I-ity, or merge it in what the world doubtless considers my better half, I still find myself a self-subsisting and alas! self-seeking me.

Never does one feel oneself so utterly helpless as in trying to speak comfort for great bereavement.

Not a hundredth part of the thoughts in my head have ever been or ever will be spoken or written — as long as I keep my senses, at least.

The glittering baits of titles and honours are only for children and fools.

cracked things often hold out as long as whole things; one takes so much better care of them!

youth is so insatiable of happiness, and has such sublimely insane faith in its own power to make happy and be happy!

I rely on the promise, God is kind to women, fools, and drunk people.