Lastly (and this is, perhaps, the golden rule), no woman should marry a man who does not smoke.

In anything fit to be called by the name of reading, the process itself should be absorbing and voluptuous; we should gloat over a book, be rapt clean out of ourselves.

Books are good enough in their own way, but they are a poor substitute for life.

To cast in it with Hyde was to die a thousand interests and aspirations.

My devil had been long caged, he came out roaring

But even if we take matrimony at its lowest, even if we regard it as no more than a sort of friendship recognised by the police, there must be degrees in the freedom and sympathy realised, and some principle to guide simple folk in their selection.

To the old our mouths are always partly closed; we must swallow our obvious retorts and listen. They sit above our heads, on life's raised dais, and appeal at once to our respect and pity.