I Have Always Thought That Every Woman

Coquettes Are, But Too Rare. It Is A Career That Requires Great Abilities, Infinite Pains, A Gay And Airy Spirit. 't Is The Coquette Who Provides All The Amusements,--suggests The Riding-party, Plans The Picnic, Gives And Guesses Charades, Acts Them. She Is The Stirring Element Amid The Heavy Congeries Of Social Atoms,--the Soul Of The House, The Salt Of The Banquet.

It Is The Lot Of Man To Suffer; It Is Also His Fortune To Forget. Oblivion And Sorrow Share Our Being, As Darkness And Light Divide The Course Of Time.

And It Is A Singular Truth That, Though A Man May Shake Off National Habits, Accent, Manner Of Thinking, Style Of Dress,--though He May Become Perfectly Identified With Another Nation, And Speak Its Language Well, Perhaps Better Than His Own,--yet Never Can He Succeed In Changing His Handwriting To A Foreign Style.

My Idea Of An Agreeable Person Is A Person Who Agrees With Me.

Everyone Likes Flattery; And When You Come To Royalty You Should Lay It On With A Trowel.