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The books—the generous friends who met me without suspicion—the merciful masters who never used me ill! The only years of my life that I can look back...more

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It was cold and barren. It was no longer the view that I remembered. The sunshine of her presence was far from me. The charm of her voice no longer mu...more

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Our words are giants when they do us an injury, and dwarfs when they do us a service.

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I dread the beginning of her new life more than words can tell, but I see some hope for her if she travels - none if she remains at home.

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The first and last weakness of his life, before him again. For a moment he felt himself blinded by his own memories; his own remembrances of the wits ...more

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The mystery which underlies the beauty of women is never raised above the reach of all expression until it has claimed kindred with the deeper mystery...more

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At any time, and under any circumstances of human interest, is it not strange to see how little real hold the objects of the natural world amid which ...more

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The explanation has been written already in the three words that were many enough, and plain enough, for my confession. I loved her.

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But I am a just man, even to my enemy—and I will acknowledge, beforehand, that they are cleverer brains than I thought them.

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I should have asked why any room in the house was better than home to me when she entered it, and barren as a desert when she went out again—why I alw...more