“Taught from their infancy that beauty is woman’s sceptre, the mind shapes itself to the body, and roaming round its gilt cage, only seeks to adorn its prison.”

Either nature has made a great difference between man and man, or that the world is not yet anywhere near to being fully civilized.

I like to use significant words.

I have sighed when obliged to confess that either Nature has made a great difference between man and man, or that the civilization which has hitherto taken place in the world has been very partial.

My dreams were all my own; I accounted for them to nobody; they were my refuge when annoyed – my dearest pleasure when free.

Thus do we wish as we float down the stream of life, whilst chance does more to gratify our desire for knowledge than our best-laid plans.

No man chooses evil because it is evil; he just mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.

Men, in general, seem to employ their reason to justify prejudices, rather than to root them out.

Into this error men have, probably, been led by viewing education in a false light; not considering it as the first step to form a being advancing gradually towards perfection; but only as a preparation for life.

All power inebriates weak man; and its abuse proves that the more equality there is established among men, the more virtue and happiness will reign in society.

Only that education deserves emphatically to be termed cultivation of the mind which teaches young people how to begin to think.

Still the men stand up for the dignity of man, by oppressing the women.

But what a weak barrier is truth when it stands in the way of an hypothesis!

A king is always a king-and a woman always a woman: his authority and her sex, ever stand between them and rational converse.

Errors are often useful; but it is commonly to remedy other errors.

Thus do we wish as we float down the stream of life, whilst chance does.

The education of women has of late been more attended to than formerly; yet they are still reckoned a frivolous sex, and ridiculed or pitied by the writers who endavour by satire or instruction to improve them.

There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

Secrecy is the element of all goodness; even virtue, even beauty is mysterious.

Life is – the way God has given it to me was just a platter – a golden platter of life laid out there for me. It’s been beautiful.

Forced idleness evolves into beauty.

Love is a great beautifier.

She may know a little, may think of herself, face and body, as ‘pretty’ but he could never tell her all the rest, how many other living things, birds, nights smelling of grass and rain, sunlit moments of simple peace, also gather in what she is to him.

The beauty of things must be that they end.