Refinement is just as much a Christian grace in a man as in a woman; but he is not such a hateful, unsexed creature without it as a woman is. — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
“I don’t know, but I thought they were the best sort of gifts, for I saw that plenty of kind thought and clever contrivance… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
I thought one only had to speak Latin through one's nose and bite off the end. — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
James's expedition to Scotland is wholly imaginary, though there appears to have been space for it during Henry's progress to the North to pay… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
If I write nothing but fiction for some time I begin to get stupid, and to feel rather as if it had been a… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
“Yes, yes, I know, Harry; but to think how little we knew, or thought, or felt — going on in our own way when… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
The unmarried woman seldom escapes a widowhood of the spirit. There is sure to be some one, parent, brother, sister, friend, more comfortable to… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
“THE MISFORTUNES OF THAT DAY disheartened and disconcerted Etheldred. To do mischief where she most wished to do good, to grieve where she longed… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
“I thought no one complained unless to get a thing remedied.’ ‘Exactly so. That is man! And experience never shows man that woman’s growls… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
“It has not hurt,’ musingly repeated Leonard. ‘No, she is beyond the reach of distracting temptations and sorrows; it has only made her brighter… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
“What I mean is, that the real gladness of life is not in these great occasions of pleasure, but in the little side delights… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
“I do not seem to have felt anything yet,’ said Averil, passing her hands over her face. ‘I seem to be made of stone.’… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
“No, I am not sorry for having offended him. I don't mind him; but Ailie, how little one knows! All the angry and bitter… — Charlotte Mary Yonge Copy Share Image
