I leave my character behind me.
I would by no means wish a daughter of mine to be a progeny of learning.
To smile at the jest which plants a thorn in another's breast is to become a principal in the mischief.
Pity those whom nature abuses, never those who abuse nature.
I ne'er could any lustre see In eyes that would not look on me; I ne'er saw nectar on a lip But where my own did hope to sip.
Nothing keeps me in such awe as perfect beauty; now, there is something consoling and encouraging in ugliness.