I Haven't Much Time To

I Haven't Much Time To Be Fond Of Anything ... But When I Have A Moment's Fondness To Bestow, Most Times ... The Roses Get It. I Began My Life Among Them In My Father's Nursery Garden, And I Shall End My Life Among Them, If I Can. Yes. One Of These Days (please God) I Shall Retire From Catching Thieves, And Try My Hand At Growing Roses.

Women Can Resist A Man's Love, A Man's Fame, A Man's Personal Appearance, And A Man's Money, But They Cannot Resist A Man's Tongue When He Knows How To Talk To Them.

The Books - The Generous Friends Who Met Me Without Suspicion - The Merciful Masters Who Never Used Me Ill!

I Have Noticed That The Christianity Of A Certain Class Of Respectable People Begins When They Open Their Prayer-books At Eleven O'clock On Sunday Morning, And Ends When They Shut Them Up Again At One O'clock On Sunday Afternoon. Nothing So Astonishes And Insults Christians Of This Sort As Reminding Them Of Their Christianity On A Week-day.

The Woman Who First Gives Life, Light, And Form To Our Shadowy Conceptions Of Beauty, Fills A Void In Our Spiritual Nature That Has Remained Unknown To Us Till She Appeared. Sympathies That Lie Too Deep For Words, Too Deep Almost For Thoughts, Are Touched, At Such Times, By Other Charms Than Those Which The Senses Feel And Which The Resources Of Expression Can Realise. The Mystery Which Underlies The Beauty Of Women Is Never Raised Above The Reach Of All Expression Until It Has Claimed Kindred With The Deeper Mystery In Our Own Souls.