Eccentricity May Be Diverting, Mama, But It

You May Have Married Her, But She Is Mine. Do You Think I Shall Let You Take Her? She May Be Ten Times Your Wife, But, By God, You Shall Never Have Her.

Depend Upon It, You Are Just The Sort Of Girl A Man Would Be Glad To Have For His Sister! You Don't Even Know How To Swoon, And I Daresay If You Tried You Would Make Wretched Work Of It, For All You Have Is Common Sense, And Of What Use Is That, Pray?

The More Enchanted The Idyll, Greater Must Be The Pain Of Its Ending.

Judging From The Letters I've Received From Obviously Feeble-minded Persons Who Wish I Would Write Another These Old Shades, It Ought To Sell Like Hot Cakes.

Well, You Have The Right To Make A Sacrifice Of Yourself, But I'll Be Damned If I'll Let You Sacrifice Me!