There are people who may be trusted, men as well as women. There are are as many difference in their natures as there are flowers in these meadows.

Some young ladies meet a man and from there it is all plain sailing, but this is not the usual way it happens.

Clergymen have much the same in their breeches as other men.

Authors go on writing books, and so we go on reading them. It is a sad state of affairs.

You would not think that birds who have no brain at all could become so friendly. I swear some of them are more intelligent than many humans, but that says more about our fellow beings than it does about the birds.

People make one happy, not houses? I do not think so. Houses are more to be trusted than people.

People make one happy, not houses.

How close the sexes sometimes come to one another. It is as much a matter of behaviour and the spere in which they move that separates the masculine part of humanity from the feminine.

There was no escaping by means of any journey, however adventurous, one took one’s problems and sorrows with one.

It is a sadness of growing older that some of us lose our ardent appreciation of what is new and different and difficult.