The Hands Are The Heart's Messengers.

[on Her Use Of Quotations:] When A Thing Has Been Said So Well That It Could Not Be Said Better, Why Paraphrase It? Hence My Writing, Is, If Not A Cabinet Of Fossils, A Kind Of Collection Of Flies In Amber.

As For Butterflies, I Can Hardly Conceive Of One's Attending Upon You; But To Question The Congruence Of The Complement Is Vain, If It Exists.

A Writer Is Unfair To Himself When He Is Unable To Be Hard On Himself.

The Power Of The Visible Is The Invisible.

We Don't Like Flowers That Do Not Wilt; They Must Die, And Nine She-camel Hairs Aid Memory.