Done Because We Are Too Many.

When Women Are Secret They Are Secret Indeed; And More Often Then Not They Only Begin To Be Secret With The Advent Of A Second Lover.

Well, These Sad And Hopeless Obstacles Are Welcome In One Sense, For They Enable Us To Look With Indifference Upon The Cruel Satires That Fate Loves To Indulge In.

Their Position Was Perhaps The Happiest Of All Positions In The Social Scale, Being Above The Line At Which Neediness Ends, And Below The Line At Which The Convenances Begin To Cramp Natural Feeling, And The Stress Of Threadbare Modishness Makes Too Little Of Enough.

...he Seemed To Approach The Grave As An Hyperbolic Curve Approaches A Line, Less Directly As He Got Nearer, Till It Was Doubtful If He Would Ever Reach It At All.

A Novel Is An Impression, Not An Argument; And There The Matter Must Rest.