I love my liberty too well to be in a hurry to give it up for any mortal man.

But many of the bravest never are known, and get no praise. That does not lessen their beauty.

[She was] kept there in the sort of embrace a man gives to the dearest creature the world holds for him.

It takes two flints to make a fire.

He was poor, yet always appeared to be giving something away; a stranger, yet everyone was his friend; no longer young, but as happy-hearted as a boy; plain and peculiar, yet his face looked beautiful to many.

Every few weeks she would shut herself up in her room, put on her scribbling suit, and fall into a vortex, as she expressed it, writing away at her novel with all her heart and soul, for till that was finished she could find no peace.

We're twins, and so we love each other more than other people.