The Portrait of a Lady

by Henry James

"My dear lady, I have no conscience!" "Well, I advise you to cultivate one. You'll need it the next time you go to America."

If we're not good Americans we're certainly poor Europeans; we've no natural place here. We're mere parasites, crawling over the surface; we haven't our feet in the soil. At least one can know it and not have illusions.

a lady who had so mismanaged her improprieties

There were ten days left of the beautiful month of May—the most precious month of all to the true Rome-lover.

"Dear me!" cried the Countess, staring and half-alarmed; "I had no idea I ever said anything remarkable! I wish I had known it at the time."

I forget what my views were; I have so many! But I'm not ashamed of them.