To be rich, to be famous? do these profit a year hence, when other names sound louder than yours, when you lie hidden away under ground, along with the idle titles engraven on your coffin? But only true love lives after you, follows your memory with secret blessings or pervades you, and intercedes for you. Non omnis moriar, if, dying, I yet live in a tender heart or two; nor am lost and hopeless, living, if a sainted departed soul still loves and prays for me.

The thorn in the cushion of the editorial chair.

Alas! we are the sport of destiny.

A woman's heart is just like a lithographer's stone; what is once written upon it cannot be rubbed out.

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

Frequent the company of your betters.

Follow your honest convictions and be strong.