How Easy Love Makes Fools Of Us.

Ah, There Are No Children Nowadays.

Birth Is Nothing Where Virtue Is Not

A Husband Is A Plaster That Cures All The Ills Of Girlhood.

One Cannot But Mistrust A Prospect Of Felicity: One Must Enjoy It Before One Can Believe In It.

Reasoning Is The Pastime Of My Whole Household, And All This Reasoning Has Driven Out Reason.