He that would travel for the entertainment of others should remember that the great object of remark is human life.
I'm a good woman for a bad man.
To err is human, but it feels divine.
I only like two kinds of men, domestic and imported.
You gotta get up early in the morning to catch a fox and stay up late at night to get a mink.
Save a boyfriend for a rainy day - and another, in case it doesn't rain.
A man in love is like a clipped coupon - it's time to cash in.
On the secretly blushing cheek is reflected the glow of the heart
This Vladimir Brusiloff to whom I have referred was the famous Russian novelist. . . . Vladimir specialized in gray studies of hopeless misery, where nothing happened till page three hundred and eighty, when the moujik decided to commit suicide. . . . Cuthbert was an optimist at heart, and it seemed to him that, at the rate at which the inhabitants of that interesting country were murdering one another, the supply of Russian novelists must eventually give out.
The usual way - through a long series of rejections, revising my manuscripts, and kept trying again and again. Finally I was fortunate enough to find a good agent.
The nineteenth century was the last moment in history when a relatively educated layperson could follow what was going on in the world of science and invention to a wide degree. Also, there were no "professionals". This was a time when amateur explorers, naturalists and enthusiasts were are still making major contributions to progress.