Each day my reason tells me so; But reason doesn't rule in love, you know.
A husband is a plaster that cures all the ills of girlhood.
If everyone were clothed with integrity, if every heart were just, frank, kindly, the other virtues would be well-nigh useless.
Of all follies there is none greater than wanting to make the world a better place.
Perfect good sense shuns all extremity, content to couple wisdom with sobriety.
No matter what everybody says, ultimately these things can harm us only by the way we react to them.