But, ah me! where is the faultless human creature who can persevere in a good resolution, without sometimes failing and falling back?

Any woman who is sure of her own wits, is a match, at any time, for a man who is not sure of his own temper.

Men little know when they say hard things to us how well we remember them, and how much harm they do us.

I am a citizen of the world, and I have met, in my time, with so many different sorts of virtue, that I am puzzled, in my old age, to say which is the right sort and which is the wrong.

The evening advanced. The shadows lengthened. The waters of the lake grew pitchy black. The gliding of the ghostly swans became rare and more rare.

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

This is the story of what a Woman's patience can endure, and what a Man's resolution can achieve.