For What Do We Live, But To

The Publicis Rather Apt To Be Unreasonably Discontented When A Woman Does Marry Again, Than When She Does Not.

A Man Who Has Nothing To Do With His Own Time Has No Conscience In His Intrusion On That Of Others.

I Have Now Attained The True Art Of Letter-writing, Which We Are Always Told, Is To Express On Paper Exactly What One Would Say To The Same Person By Word Of Mouth.

They Gave Themselves Up Wholly To Their Sorrow, Seeking Increase Of Wretchedness In Every Reflection That Could Afford It, And Resolved Against Ever Admitting Consolation In Future.

The More I Know Of The World, The More I Am Convinced That I Shall Never See A Man Whom I Can Really Love.