Women who love the same man have a kind of bitter freemasonry.
People seem to think there is something inherently noble and virtuous in the desire to go for a walk.
All fantasy should have a solid base in reality.
It seems to be a law of nature that no man, unless he has some obvious physical deformity, ever is loth to sit for his portrait.
Beauty and the lust for learning have yet to be allied.
Of all the objects of hatred, a woman once loved is the most hateful.