“Contempt for one's own comrades, for the troops of the enemy, and, above all, fierce contempt for one's own person, are what war demands of everyone. Far better is it for an army to be too savage, too cruel, too barbarous, than to possess too much sentimentality and human reasonableness.”

“One can't judge till one's forty; before that we're too eager, too hard, too cruel, and in addition much too ignorant.”

“A fig for my opinion! If you fall in love with Mr. Osmond what will you care for that?" "Not much, probably. But meanwhile it has a certain importance. The more information one has about one's dangers the better." "I don't agree to that—it may make them dangers. We know too much about people in these days; we hear too much. Our ears, our minds, our mouths, are stuffed with personalities. Don't mind anything any one tells you about any one else. Judge everyone and everything for yourself.”

“Okay, if this is what falling in love feels like, someone please kill me now. (Not literally, overzealousreaders.) But it was all too much—too much emotion, too much happiness, too much longing, perhapstoo much ice cream…”

“To the broody hen the notion would probably seem monstrous that there should be a creature in the world to whom a nestful of eggs was not utterly fascinating and precious and never-to-be-too-much-sat-upon object which it is to her.”

“Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.”

“Everyone knows everything about all of us. That's too much knowledge!”