If we men married the women we deserved, we should have a very bad time of it.

I do not approve of anything which tampers with natural ignorance

I am tired of myself to-night. I should like to be somebody else.

Any place you love is the world to you”, explained the pensive Catherine Wheel, who had been attached to an old deal box in early life, and prided herself on her broken heart; “but love is not fashionable any more, the poets have killed it. They wrote so much about that nobody believed them, and I am not surprised. True love suffers, and is silent. I remember myself once- But it is no matter now. Romance is a thing of the past.

I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.

To define is to limit.

I am the only person in the world I should like to know thoroughly.