“Dear, sweet, beautiful girl,”

“My dear sweet girl. You take on so much. You feel things so deeply. But you will be happy, my darling. You will shine.”

“It seems to be the fashion nowadays for a girl to behave as much like a man as possible. Well, I won't! I'll make the best of being a girl and be as nice a specimen as I can: sweet and modest, a dear, dainty thing with clothes smelling all sweet and violety, a soft voice, and pretty, womanly ways. Since I'm a girl, I prefer to be a real one!”

“Sogni dóro, mia bella ragazza,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. "Sweet dreams my beautiful girl.”

“My dear fellow, the truth isn’t quite the sort of thing one tells to a nice, sweet, refined girl. What extraordinary ideas you have about the way to behave to a woman!”

“She was indeed a girl of exquisite beauty. She was one of those languid women made of dark honey smooth and sweet and terribly sticky.”