Quotes, Quotations and Sayings

A woman should never be trusted with money.

You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.

See Jane. See Jane box. Jane is mad at her gardener, Bill. Bill said he would water her cactus but he forgot. Bad, Bill, bad! See the cactus die. Jane is sad. Bill is dead.

Life is just a quick succession of busy nothings.

To look almost pretty is an acquisition of higher delight to a girl who has been looking plain for the first fifteen years of her life than a beauty from her cradle can ever receive.

The enthusiasm of a woman's love is even beyond the biographer's.

Charlie Woman... woe-man... whoooa-man. She was a thief, you got to believe, she stole my heart and my cat. Judy, Betty, Josie and those hot Pussycats... they made me horny, on Saturday morning... girls of cartoo-ins will leave me in ruins... I want to to be Betty's Barney. Jane... get me off this crazy thing... called love.

If the factory people outside the colleges live under the discipline of narrow means, the people inside live under almost every other kind of discipline except that of narrow means -- from the fruity austerities of learning, through the iron rations of English gentlemanhood, down to the modest disadvantages of occupying cold stone buildings without central heating and having to cross two or three quadrangles to take a bath.

It may be possible to do without dancing entirely. Instances have been known of young people passing many, many months successively without being at any ball of any description, and no material injury accrue either to body or mind; but when a beginning is made -- when the felicities of rapid motion have once been, though slightly, felt -- it must be a very heavy set that does not ask for more.

An artist cannot do anything slovenly.

The system -- the American one, at least -- is a vast and noble experiment. It has been polestar and exemplar for other nations. But from kindergarten until she graduates from college the girl is treated in it exactly like her brothers. She studies the same subjects, becomes proficient at the same sports. Oh, it is a magnificent lore she learns, education for the mind beyond anything Jane Austen or Saint Theresa or even Mrs. Pankhurst ever dreamed. It is truly Utopian. But Utopia was never meant to exist on this disheveled planet.

In nine cases out of ten, a woman had better show more affection than she feels.

A woman, especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can.

Single women have a dreadful propensity for being poor. Which is one very strong argument in favor of matrimony.

There are certainly are not so many men of large fortune in the world as there are of pretty woman to deserve them.

Dad: Jane, can you explain to me why there is a $50 fine on your student account billed as "Roof Violation"? Jane: Well, Dad, I violated the roof.

Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance.

Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all.

Business, you know, may bring you money, but friendship hardly ever does.

You ask whether I have ever been in love: fool as I am, I am not such a fool as that. But if one is only to talk from first-hand experience, conversation would be a very poor business. But though I have no personal experience of the things they call love, I have what is better -- the experience of Sappho, of Euripides, of Catallus, of Shakespeare, of Spenser, of Austen, of Bronte, of anyone else I have read.

I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman's feelings and there may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of.

How much I love every thing that is decided and open!

I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other.

The injustice of defeat lies in the fact that its most innocent victims are made to look like heartless accomplices. It is impossible to see behind defeat, the sacrifices, the austere performance of duty, the self-discipline and the vigilance that are there -- those things the god of battle does not take account of.

An engaged woman is always more agreeable than a disengaged. She is satisfied with herself. Her cares are over, and she feels that she may exert all her powers of pleasing without suspicion. All is safe with a lady engaged; no harm can be done.

Wisdom is better than wit, and in the long run will certainly have the laugh on her side.

We met Dr. Hall in such deep mourning that either his mother, his wife, or himself must be dead.

If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way; but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out.

Nothing amuses me more than the easy manner with which everybody settles the abundance of those who have a great deal less than themselves.

You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these twenty years at least.

It is always incomprehensible to a man that a woman should ever refuse an offer of marriage.

There is safety in reserve, but no attraction. One cannot love a reserved person.

A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of.

Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man is in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

It is indolence... Indolence and love of ease; a want of all laudable ambition, of taste for good company, or of inclination to take the trouble of being agreeable, which make men clergymen. A clergyman has nothing to do but be slovenly and selfish; read the newspaper, watch the weather, and quarrel with his wife. His curate does all the work and the business of his own life is to dine.

One has not great hopes from Birmingham. I always say there is something direful in the sound.

We do not look in our great cities for our best morality.

It may be objected by some that I have concentrated too much on the dry bones, and too little on the flesh which clothes them, but I would ask such critics to concede at least that the bones have an austere beauty of their own.

Although our productions have afforded more extensive and unaffected pleasure than those of any other literary corporation in the world, no species of composition has been so much decried. ''And what are you reading, Miss -- -?'' ''Oh! it is only a novel!'' replies the young lady; while she lays down her book with affected indifference, or momentary shame. ''It is only Cecilia, or Camilla, or Belinda ''; or, in short, only some work in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and humor, are conveyed to the world in the best chosen language.

A hot bath! I cry, as I sit down in it! Again as I lie flat, a hot bath! How exquisite a pleasure, how luxurious, fervid and flagrant a consolation for the rigors, the austerities, the renunciation of the day.

One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, nothing but suffering.

Every man is surrounded by a neighborhood of voluntary spies.

For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in our turn?

Human nature is so well disposed towards those who are in interesting situations, that a young person, who either marries or dies, is sure of being kindly spoken of.

The label of liberalism is hardly a sentence to public ignominy: otherwise Bruce Springsteen would still be rehabilitating used Cadillacs in Asbury Park and Jane Fonda, for all we know, would be just another overweight housewife.

Liberalism, austere in political trifles, has learned ever more artfully to unite a constant protest against the government with a constant submission to it.

Mathematics, rightly viewed, posses not only truth, but supreme beauty a beauty cold and austere, like that of sculpture.

With men he can be rational and unaffected, but when he has ladies to please, every feature works.

Mercy to living beings, self restraint, truth, honesty, chastity and contentment, right faith and knowledge, and austerity are but the entourage of morality.