A wise parent humors the desire for independent action, so as to become the friend and advisor when his absolute rule shall cease.

But the future must be met, however stern and iron it be.

Margaret was not a ready lover, but where she loved she loved passionately, and with no small degree of jealousy.

And so she shuddered away from the threat of his enduring love. What did he mean? Had she not the power to daunt him? She would see. It was more daring than became a man to threaten her.

What other people may think of the rightness or wrongness is nothing in comparison to my own deep knowledge, my innate conviction that it was wrong.

I wanted to see the place where Margaret grew to what she is, even at the worst time of all, when I had no hope of ever calling her mine.

No one loves me, - no one cares for me, but you, mother.

Mr. Thorton love Margaret! Why, Margraret would never think of him, I'm sure! Such a thing has never entered her head." "Entering her heart would do.

She freshens me up above a bit. Who'd ha thought that face - as bright and as strong as the angel I dream of - could have known the sorrow she speaks on? I wonder how she'll sin. All on us must sing.

I dare say there's many a woman makes as sad a mistake as I have done, and only finds it out too late.

He swallowed down the dry choking sobs which had been heaving up from his heart hitherto ...

He hath eaten me out of house and home.

I'm very neurotic about shaving. I shave first thing in the morning before a shoot, and if I have dinner that night, I have to shave again.

Men are moved by two levers only: fear and self interest.

I don't think the sketch on its own is a great sketch.

It's weird when people start sentences with 'frankly' - as if their other sentences don't count.

I don't see, I think, any problems between India and the United States.

I watched the way you watch when you know you want to remember.

I've seen this episode. This is the one where Sylvester eats Tweety.

I don't write toward a genre, and I try not to make claim to a genre after a book is published. That said, The Guardians isn't poetry. It's prose.

Nature hath nothing made so base, but can read some instruction to the wisest man.