A novel is an impression, not an argument; and there the matter must rest.

Is a woman a thinking unit at all, or a fraction always wanting its integer?

Let me enjoy the earth no less because the all-enacting light that fashioned forth its loveliness had other aims than my delight.

She was of the stuff of which great men's mothers are made. She was indispensable to high generation, hated at tea parties, feared in shops, and loved at crises.

Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

In the ill-judged execution of the well-judged plan of things the call seldom produces the comer, the man to love rarely coincides with the hour for loving

Many of her thoughts were perfect syllogisms; unluckily they always remained thoughts. Only a few were irrational assumptions; but, unfortunately, they were the ones which most frequently grew into deeds