I have passed out of childhood into old age. I have had no youth – no womanhood; the hopes of womanhood have closed for me – for I shall never marry; and I anticipate cares and sorrows just as if I were an old woman, and with the same fearful spirit.
But the trees were gorgeous in their autumnal leafiness – the warm odours of flowers and herb came sweet upon the sense.
As she realized what might have been, she grew to be thankful for what was.
I could wish there were a God, if it were only to ask him to bless thee.
Yet is was very difficult to separate her interpretation, and keep it distinct from his meaning.
Oh, I can’t describe my home. It is home, and I can’t put its charm into words.
How am I to dress up in my finery, and go off and away to smart parties, after the sorrow I have seen today?
There is always a pleasure in unravelling a mystery, in catching at the gossamer clue which will guide to certainty.
I never did write a biography, and I don’t exactly know how to set about it; you see I have to be accurate and keep to the facts, a most difficult thing for a writer of fiction.
A solitary life cherishes mere fancies until they become manias.
What’s the use of watching? A watched pot never boils...
All the earth, though it were full of kind hearts, is but a desolation and desert place to a mother when her only child is absent.
Opportunities are not often wanting where inclination goes before...
In all disappointments sympathy is a great balm.
Waiting is far more difficult than doing.
I would not trust a mouse to a woman if a man’s judgment could be had.
Man, through all ages of revolving time, Unchanging man, in every varying clime, Deems his own land of every land the pride, Beloved by heaven o’er all the world beside; Home, the spot of earth supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.
A man is so in the way in the house.
He had not an ounce of superfluous flesh on his bones, and leanness goes a great way towards gentility.
What other people may think of the rightness or wrongness is nothing in comparison to my own deep knowledge, my innate conviction that it was wrong.