Bless Thy Simplicity, Tess

A Novel Is An Impression, Not An Argument; And There The Matter Must Rest.

If An Offense Come Out Of The Truth, Better Is It That The Offense Come Than That The Truth Be Concealed.

Some Folk Want Their Luck Buttered.

There Is Always An Inertia To Be Overcome In Striking Out A New Line Of Conduct – Not More In Ourselves, It Seems, Than In Circumscribing Events, Which Appear As If Leagued Together To Allow No Novelties In The Way Of Amelioration.

You Could Sometimes See Her Twelfth Year In Her Cheeks, Or Her Ninth Sparkling From Her Eyes; And Even Her Fifth Would Flit Over The Curves Of Her Mouth Now And Then.