Consistency is the last refuge of the unimagininative.

Early in life she had discovered the important truth that nothing looks so like innocence as an indiscretion; and by a series of reckless escapades, half of them quite harmless, she had acquired all the privileges of a personality.

It is only the modern that ever becomes old-fashioned.

What consoles one nowadays is not repentance but pleasure. Repentance is quite out of date.

When a man is old enough to do wrong he should be old enough to do right also.

Tread Lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow.

If a friend of mine gave a feast, and did not invite me to it, I should not mind a bit. but if a friend of mine had a sorrow and refused to allow me to share it, I should feel it most bitterly. If he shut the doors of the house of mourning against me, I would move back again and again and beg to be admitted so that I might share in what I was entitled to share. If he thought me unworthy, unfit to weep with him, I should feel it as the most poignant humiliation.