We had our breakfasts--whatever happens in a house, robbery or murder, it doesn't matter, you must have your breakfast.

Where is the woman who has ever really torn from her heart the image that has been once fixed in it by a true love? Books tell us that such unearthly creatures have existed - but what does our own experiences say in answer to books?

I have always held the old-fashioned opinion that the primary object of work of fiction should be to tell a story.

No sensible man ever engages, unprepared, in a fencing match of words with a woman.

I have noticed that the Christianity of a certain class of respectable people begins when they open their prayer-books at eleven o'clock on Sunday morning, and ends when they shut them up again at one o'clock on Sunday afternoon. Nothing so astonishes and insults Christians of this sort as reminding them of their Christianity on a week-day.

My hour for tea is half-past five, and my buttered toast waits for nobody.

Some of us rush through life, and some of us saunter through life. Mrs Vesey sat through life.