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Mary Elizabeth Braddon

  • Life is such a very troublesome matter, when all is said and done, that it's as well even to take its blessings quietly.

  • ... it is easy to starve, but it is difficult to stoop.

  • I've found two gray hairs in my head the week before last, and an impertinent crow has planted a delicate impression of his foot under my right eye.

  • There can be no reconciliation where there is no open warfare. There must be a battle, a brave, boisterous battle, with pennants waving and cannon roaring, before there can be peaceful treaties and enthusiastic shaking of hands.

  • ... love is so very subtle an essence, such an indefinable metaphysical marvel, that its due force, though very cruelly felt by the sufferer himself, is never clearly understood by those who look on at its torments and wonder why he takes the common fever so badly.

  • ... love, which is a madness, and a scourge, and a fever, and a delusion, and a snare, is also a mystery, and very imperfectly understood by everyone except the individual sufferer who writhes under its tortures.

  • Paris is a mighty schoolmaster, a grand enlightener of the provincial intellect.

  • Exceptional talent does not always win its rewards unless favoured by exceptional circumstances.

    • Mary Elizabeth Braddon
  • That word bedtime is always a damper to juvenile spirits. In all those early years of life the idea of bed is pretty much what the idea of Portland or Dartmoor is to the criminal classes. Children hear their elders talk of wanting to go to bed, and wonder at such a perverted taste. There is always a sense of humiliation in that premature banishment.

Mary Elizabeth Braddon, English writer

(1835 - 1915)