I'd rather be hissed at for a good verse, than applauded for a bad one.
Years place at last a venerable crown upon a head.
There are no rules for felicity.
Profound hearts, wise minds, take life as God makes it; it is a long trial, and unintelligible preparation for the unknown destiny.
You would have imagined her at one moment a maniac, at another a queen.
There are souls which, crab-like, crawl continually toward darkness, going back in life rather than advancing in it, using what experience they have to increase their deformity, growing worse without ceasing, and becoming steeped more and more thoroughly in an intensifying wickedness.