You, who are ashamed of your poverty, and blush for your calling, are a snob; as are you who boast of your wealth.

Who feels injustice, who shrinks before a slight, who has a sense of wrong so acute, and so glowing a gratitude for kindness, as a generous boy?

She lived in her past life — every letter seemed to recall some circumstance of it. How well she remembered them all! His looks and tones, his dress, what he said and how — these relics and remembrances of dead affection were all that were left her in the world.

If a man has committed wrong in life, I don't know any moralist more anxious to point his errors out to the world than his own relations.

If success is rare and slow, everybody knows how quick and easy ruin is.

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

A good woman is the loveliest flower that blooms under heaven; and we look with love and wonder upon its silent grace, its pure fragrance, its delicate bloom of beauty.