Love Has Its Own Instinct, Finding The

A Man May And Ought To Pride Himself More On His Will Than On His Talent.

What A Thing Of Fantasy A Woman May Become After Dusk.

When Women Love, They Forgive Everything...

A Woman, Even A Prude, Is Not Long At A Loss, However Dire Her Plight. She Would Seen Always To Have In Hand The Fig Leaf Our Mother Eve Bequeathed To Her.

A Murderer Is Less Loathsome To Us Than A Spy. The Murderer May Have Acted On A Sudden Mad Impulse; He May Be Penitent And Amend; But A Spy Is Always A Spy, Night And Day, In Bed, At Table, As He Walks Abroad; His Vileness Pervades Every Moment Of His Life