do not look on me with those dear, scared eyes of yours. If there is aught that puzzles you in what I said, try and trust me a little longer. Remember, I must save the...

Anonymity crowned him as if t’were the halo of romantic glory.

…women have done strange things; they are a far greater puzzle to the student of human nature than the sterner, less complex sex has ever been.

The moral crisis she’d just gone through made her feel indulgent toward the faults, the delinquencies of others. How thoroughly a human being can be buffeted and over-mastered by fate had been borne in upon...

When they are gay, the waves echo their gaiety; but when they are sad, then every breaker, as it rolls, seems to bring additional sadness, and to speak to us of hopelessness and of the...

… you know my belief in bald-headed Fortune, with the one solitary hair. Well, I meant to grab that hair…

…and in repose one might have admired so fine a specimen of English manhood, until the foppish ways, the affected movements, the perpetual inane laugh, brought one’s admiration of Sir Percy Blakeney to an abrupt...

Had he but turned back then, and looked out once more on to the rose-lit garden, she would have seen that which would have made her own sufferings seem but light and easy to bear–a...

… Mr Jellyband was indeed a typical rural John Bull of those days — the days when our prejudiced insularity was at its height, when to an Englishman, be he lord, yeoman, or peasant, the...

I have so often been asked the question: “But how did you come to think of The Scarlet Pimpernel?” And my answer has always been: “It was God’s will that I should.” And to you...

The chairs – turned towards one another in groups of twos and threes – seemed like the seats of ghosts in close conversation with one another. There were sets of two chairs – very close...

The present is not so glorious but that I should wish to dwell a little in the past.

Is it love to worship a saint in heaven, whom you dare not touch, who hovers above you like a cloud, which floats away from you even as you gaze? To love is to feel...

She looks very virtuous and very melancholy.””Virtue is like the precious odors, most fragrant when it is crushed.