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.

I roused myself from the book which I was dreaming over rather than reading, and left my chambers to meet the cool night air in the suburbs.

Men ruin themselves headlong for unworthy women.

Pedants, who have the least knowledge to be proud of, are impelled most by vanity.

...it will always remain my private persuasion that Nature was absorbed in making cabbages when Mrs. Vesey was born, and that the good lady suffered the consequences of a vegetable preoccupation in the mind of the Mother of us all.

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.

And earth was heaven a little the worse for wear. And heaven was earth, done up again to look like new.