Irony

He kindly stopped for me –

Water, water, every where, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where,

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Winterbourne was almost grateful for having found the formula that applied to Miss Daisy Miller. She was a flirt—a pretty American flirt. He had never, as yet, had any relations with young ladies of this category.

I thought it great fun when you played with me, just as they thought it great fun when I played with them.

You want to go into the world, and you are going empty-handed, with some promise of freedom which men in their simplicity and their natural lawlessness cannot even comprehend.

It must be added that she had a very slender repertoire of smiles, and that these were all produced upon the recommendation of her father.

She had wanted to see life, and fortune had favoured her in a manner which now, as she looked about her, struck her as almost grotesque.

"Justice" was done, and the President of the Immortals, in Aeschylean phrase, had ended his sport with Tess.

…secure ancestral halls for the summer. A colonial mansion, a hereditary estate, I would say a haunted house, and reach the height of romantic felicity—but that would be asking too much of fate!

…as if he could discern there, in the vast expanse, some promise of happier times; and perhaps he could, for such minds are often the victims of their own imagination.

When a girl leaves her home at eighteen, she does one of two things. Either she falls into saving hands and becomes better, or she rapidly assumes the cosmopolitan standard of virtue and becomes worse.

The daughters of Black Hawk merchants had a confident, unenquiring belief that they were "refined," and that the country girls, who "worked out," were not.

still content to reassemble every winter in the shabby red and gold boxes of the sociable old Academy.

…the way of people who dreaded scandal more than disease, who placed decency above courage, and who considered that nothing was more ill-bred than "scenes."

"Community, Identity, Stability." The words mocked the gigantic letters in which they were written. The D.H.C. for Central London always made a point of personally …

Maman died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don't know. I got a telegram from the home: "Mother deceased. Funeral tomorrow. Faithfully yours." That doesn't mean anything. Maybe it was yesterday.

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.

The art of losing isn't hard to master;

of February, 1931, I will take off from Mercy and fly away on my own wings. Please forgive

"What you're doing now. Making me feel good."

My mother's name was Mercy Stone Goodwill. She was only thirty years old when she took sick, a boiling hot day, standing there in her back kitchen, making a Malvern …

Manchester County, Virginia, was the first to impose an eight o'clock curfew for black people. Negroes—slave and free—could not be on county roads and paths after eight.