Consistency is a human word, but it certainly expresses nothing human.

to the many, witticisms not only require to be explained, like riddles, but are also like new shoes, which people require to wear many times before they get accustomed to them.

And this is woman's fate: all her affections are called into life by winning flatteries, and then thrown back upon themselves to perish; and her heart, her trusting heart, filled with weak tenderness, is left to bleed or break!

Our first love-letter ... There is so much to be said, and which no words seems exactly to say - the dread of saying too much is so nicely balanced by the fear of saying too little. Hope borders on presumption, and fear on reproach.

Truly, a little love-making is a very pleasant thing.

It is amazing how much a thought expands and refines by being put into speech: I should think it could hardly know itself.

Childhood, whose very happiness is love.