Since the days of Adam, there has been hardly a mischief done in this world but a woman has been at the bottom of it.

Werther had a love for Charlotte Such as words could never utter; Would you know how first he met her? She was cutting bread and butter.

Dinner was made for eating, not for talking.

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?

All is vanity, look you; and so the preacher is vanity too.

The moral world has no particular objection to vice, but an insuperable repugnance to hearing vice called by its proper name.

I suppose as long as novels last, and authors aim at interesting their public, there must always be in the story a virtuous and gallant hero; a wicked monster, his opposite; and a pretty girl, who finds a champion. Bravery and virtue conquer beauty; and vice, after seeming to triumph through a certain number of pages, is sure to be discomfited in the last volume, when justice overtakes him, and honest folks come by their own.