Solitude Begets Whimsies.

Solitude Begets Whimsies.

[on Her Political Writings:] It Is, I Confess, Very Possible That These My Labours May Only Be Destined To Line Trunks, Or Preserve Roast Meat From Too Fierce A Fire; Yet In That Shape I Shall Be Useful To My Country.

One Can Never Outlive One's Vanity.

The One Thing That Reconciles Me To The Fact Of Being A Woman Is The Reflection That It Delivers Me From The Necessity Of Being Married To One.

It Goes Far Towards Reconciling Me To Being A Woman, When I Reflect That I Am Thus In No Danger Of Ever Marrying One.