Vanity Fair is a very vain, wicked, foolish place, full of all sorts of humbugs and falsenesses and pretensions.

It is impossible, in our condition of Society, not to be sometimes a Snob.

Vanity is often the unseen spur.

Pray, dear madam, another glass; it is Christmas time, it will do you no harm.

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?

The ladies--Heaven bless them!--are, as a general rule, coquettes from babyhood upwards.

There is a skeleton in every house.