... true love is like religion, it hath its silence and its sanctity.
Shopping, true feminine felicity!
Society is like a large piece of frozen water; and skating well is the great art of social life.
The wind has a language, I would I could learn! Sometimes 'tis soothing, and sometimes 'tis stern, Sometimes it comes like a low sweet song, And all things grow calm, as the sound floats along, And the forest is lull'd by the dreamy strain, And slumber sinks down on the wandering main, And its crystal arms are folded in rest, And the tall ship sleeps on its heaving breast.
To be rude is as good as being clever.
Curiosity is its own suicide.
Surprises are like misfortunes or herrings - they rarely come single.
There are words to paint the misery of love, but none to paint its happiness.
... many a heart is caught in the rebound ... Pride may be soothed by the ready devotion of another; vanity may be excited the more keenly by recent mortification.
the blessings of matrimony, like those of poverty, belong rather to philosophy than reality.
How very satisfactory those discussions must be, where each party retains their own opinion!
It merely shews, after all, that affection is a habit.
habit is our idea of eternity.
Our first love-letter ... There is so much to be said, and which no words seems exactly to say - the dread of saying too much is so nicely balanced by the fear of saying too little. Hope borders on presumption, and fear on reproach.
The lover and the physician are each popular from the same cause - we talk to them of nothing but ourselves.
A sealed book, at whose contents we tremble.
Assuredly, meeting after absence, is one of - ah, no! - it is life's most delicious feeling.
It is said that ridicule is the test of truth: it is never applied, but when we wish to deceive ourselves.
From religion ... they will learn the only true lesson of equality - the conviction that our destinies are not in our own hands; they will see that no situation in life is without its share of suffering; - and this perpetual reference to a higher power ought equally to teach the rich humility, and the poor devotion.
One of the greatest of all mental pleasures is to have our thoughts often divined: ever entered into with sympathy.
I cannot see why a taste for the country should be held so very indispensable a requisite for excellence; but really people talk of it as if it were a virtue, and as if an opposite opinion was, to say the least of it, very immoral.
Ah, tell me not that memory sheds gladness o'er the past, what is recalled by faded flowers, save that they did not last?
I can pass days Stretch'd in the shade of those old cedar trees, Watching the sunshine like a blessing fall,-- The breeze like music wandering o'er the boughs, Each tree a natural harp,--each different leaf A different note, blent in one vast thanksgiving.
My heart is its own grave!
Eyes that droop like summer flowers.
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