She thought him very handsome as he said this, but reflected that unfortunately men didn't care for the truth, especially the new kinds, in proportion as they were good-looking. She had, however, a moral resource that should always fall back upon; it had already been a comfort to her, on occasions of acute feeling, that she hated men, as a class anyway.

Still, who could say what men ever were looking for? They looked for what they found; they knew what pleased them only when they saw it.

A man who pretends to understand women is bad manners. For him to really to understand them is bad morals.

Young men of this class never do anything for themselves that they can get other people to do for them, and it is the infatuation, the devotion, the superstition of others that keeps them going. These others in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred are women.

The superiority of one man's opinion over another's is never so great as when the opinion is about a woman.

God's creature is one. He makes man, not men. His true creature is unitary and infinite, revealing himself, indeed, in every finite form, but compromised by none.

The visible world is but man turned inside out that he may be revealed to himself.

England always seems to me like a man swimming with his clothes on his head.

You seemed to me to be soaring far up in the blue - to be sailing in the bright light, over the heads of men. Suddenly some one tosses up a faded rosebud - a missile that should never have reached you - and down you drop to the ground.