Man's love is of man's life a part; it is a woman's whole existence. In her first passion, a woman loves her lover, in all the others all she loves is love.

There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away.

I love the language, it sounds as if it should be writ on satin with syllables which breathe of the sweet South

Tis pleasing to be school'd in a strange tongue By female lips and eyes--that is, I mean, When both the teacher and the taught are young, As was the case, at least, where I have been; They smile so when one's right; and when one's wrong They smile still more.

A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands.

There is no traitor like him whose domestic treason plants the poniard within the breast that trusted to his truth

Who then will explain the explanation?