It Is Strange That There Should Be

Critics Ought Never To Be Consulted, But While Errors May Yet Be Rectified Or Insipidity Suppressed. But When The Book Has Once Been Dismissed Into The World, And Can Be No More Retouched, I Know Not Whether A Very Different Conduct Should Not Be Prescribed, And Whether Firmness And Spirit May Not Sometimes Be Of Use To Overpower Arrogance And Repel Brutality.

In A Man's Letters You Know, Madam, His Soul Lies Naked, His Letters Are Only The Mirror Of His Breast, Whatever Passes Within Him Is Shown Undisguised In Its Natural Process. Nothing Is Inverted, Nothing Distorted, You See Systems In Their Elements, You Discover Actions In Their Motives.

Gratitude Is A Fruit Of Great Cultivation; You Do Not Find It Among Gross People.

We Are All Prompted By The Same Motives, All Deceived By The Same Fallacies, All Animated By Hope, Obstructed By Danger, Entangled By Desire, And Seduced By Pleasure.

Unless A Woman Has An Amorous Heart, She Is A Dull Companion.