If you had told Sycorax that her son Caliban was as handsome as Apollo, she would have been pleased, witch as she was.

Society having ordained certain customs, men are bound to obey the law of society, and conform to its harmless orders.

Which of us that is thirty years old has not had its Pompeii? Deep under ashes lies the life of youth--the careless sport, the pleasure and the passion, the darling joy.

To see a young couple loving each other is no wonder; but to see an old couple loving each other is the best sight of all.

Oh, those women! They nurse and cuddle their presentiments, and make darlings of their ugliest thoughts.

To know nothing, or little, is in the nature of some husbands. To hide, in the nature of how many women? Oh, ladies! how many of you have surreptitious milliners' bills? How many of you have gowns and bracelets which you daren't show, or which you wear trembling?--trembling, and coaxing with smiles the husband by your side, who does not know the new velvet gown from the old one, or the new bracelet from last year's, or has any notion that the ragged-looking yellow lace scarf cost forty guineas and that Madame Bobinot is writing dunning letters every week for the money!

People hate as they love, unreasonably.