love, which is a madness, and a scourge, and a fever, and a delusion, and a snare, is also a mystery, and very imperfectly understood by everyone except the individual sufferer who writhes under its tortures.
Mary Elizabeth BraddonMy intellect is a little way upon the wrong side of that narrow boundary-line between sanity and insanity.
Mary Elizabeth BraddonYou seem to have quite a taste for discussing these horrible subjects," she said, rather scornfully; "you ought to have been a detective police officer.
Mary Elizabeth Braddon