The eye of genius has always a plaintive expression, and its natural language is pathos.
I was gravely warned by some of my female acquaintances that no woman could expect to be regarded as a lady after she had written a book.
No music is so pleasant to my ears as that word-father.
I will work in my own way, according to the light that is in me.
The rarest attainment is to grow old happily and gracefully.
affectation is fond of making a greater show than reality. ... Nature and truth have never learned to blow the trumpet, and never will.