I am always at a loss at how much to believe of my own stories.

There was one species of despotism under which he had long groaned, and that was petticoat government.

Men are always doomed to be duped, not so much by the arts of the other as by their own imagination. They are always wooing goddesses, and marrying mere mortals.

A few amber clouds floated in the sky without a breath of air to move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually into a pure apple-green, and from that into the deep blue of the mid-heaven.

Too young for woe, though not for tears.

The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced.

He who wins a thousand common hearts is entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette is indeed a hero.