I need not hate any man; he cannot hurt me. I need not flatter any man; he has nothing to give me.

O why do I ever let anyone read what I write! Every time I have to go through a breakfast with a letter of criticism I swear I will write for my own praise or blame in future. It is a misery.

Now, aged 50, I'm just poised to shoot forth quite free straight and undeflected my bolts whatever they are.

She came into a room; she stood, as he had often seen her, in a doorway with lots of people round her. But it was Clarissa one remembered. Not that she was striking; not beautiful at all; there was nothing picturesque about her; she never said anything specially clever; there she was however; there she was.

Romantic Love is only an Illusion. A story one makes up in One's Mind about Another Person.

Jealousy ... survives every other passion of mankind.

But Time, unfortunately, though it makes animals and vegetables bloom and fade with amazing punctuality has no such simple effect upon the mind of man.