It's only the freckles on your little unpowdered nose, and the yellow lights in your eyes, and the way your hair curls up at the ends that save you.
Remember, please, that three-and-twenty with a perfect complexion has no call to reprove her elders.

Just wait till you come to forty years." "Oh," said Jean, "it's absurd of you to talk like that.

As if you didn't know that you are infinitely more attractive than any young girl.

I never know why people talk so much about _youth_.

What does being young matter if you're awkward and dull and shy as well?
I'd far rather be middle-aged and interesting." "That," said Pamela, as she laid her treasures back in the box, "is one of the minor tragedies of life.