Could the best and kindest of us who depart from the earth have an opportunity of revisiting it, I suppose he or she (assuming that any Vanity Fair feelings subsist in the sphere whither we are bound) would have a pang of mortification at finding how soon our survivors were consoled.

The book of female logic is blotted all over with tears, and Justice in their courts is forever in a passion.

Next to the very young, I suppose the very old are the most selfish.

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

We pass by common objects or persons without noticing them; but the keen eye detects and notes types everywhere and among all classes.

Life is a mirror: if you frown at it, it frowns back; if you smile, it returns the greeting.

The affection of young ladies is of as rapid growth as Jack's beanstalk, and reaches up to the sky in a night.