I am alone and miserable. Only someone as ugly as I am could love me. - Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

There is but one solution to the intricate riddle of life; to improve ourselves, and contribute to the happiness of others.

How many women thus waste life away the prey of discontent, who might have practised as physicians, regulated a farm, managed a shop, and stood erect, supported by their own industry, instead of hanging their heads surcharged with the dew of sensibility, that consumes the beauty to which it at first gave lustre.

Who could be interested in the fate of a murderer, but the hangman who would gain his fee?