Helen Blackwood, Baroness Dufferin and Claneboye

"In short, the world owns that we are the best-looking family in England and we are pretty well disposed to agree."

"You see Georgy’s the beauty and Carry’s the wit, and I ought to be the good one, but then I am such a liar."

"I am what Doctor Johnson would call a "compendious epitome" of all the virtues—in one volume very neatly bound, and very rare—there being but one copy extant."

"I am persuaded one ought not to set one's heart earnestly on any one pursuit in this world, if one wishes to preserve any of the energy of youth beyond its first years."

"I think the Old Bailey is a charming place. We were introduced to a live Lord Mayor, and I sat between two sheriffs. The common sergeant talked to me familiarly, and I am not sure that the Governor of Newgate did not call me "Nelly." [...] We have seen a great deal of life, and learned a great deal of the criminal law of England this week—knowledge cheaply purchased at the cost of all my wardrobe and all my mother's plate. We have gone through two examinations in court; they were very hurrying and agitating affairs, and I had to kiss either the Bible or the magistrate, I don't recollect which, but it smelled like thumbs."

"Rumor has reached me that my private and confidential communications to you have been publicly bandied about, after a banquet at your house, and commented on by astute Diplomats and persons of that dangerous description. I therefore write this in illegible character, trusting that not even you will be able to read it, to ask you to dine at my inhospitable board on Wednesday the 21st, when I shall take care that there shall be nothing to eat. Fondly hoping that you will not be able to come, I remain, with best execrations, your enemy for life,"

"Surely it is hardly worthwhile to take up a pursuit merely to please other people."

"What a spirit of contradiction possesses one's kind friends! I, who have never done anything, am supposed to be capable of doing much; it is a great lesson, which I shall lay to heart. I will never give the measure of my shallowness; I will go on laboring in my vocation; I will "do nothing" more energetically than ever."

"Do, Car, open your eyes (and shut your mouth) and see that this is not our old world when we were all young, handsome women, much observed and talked of, and that you are no longer an ideal of Vanity Fair."

"That last day at Clandeboye was full of sweet and bitter thoughts to me. I walked round the lake, and took leave of all the old (and new!) places. ... I had a poignant thought of regret in thinking I should see them no more (at least with my earthly eyes), for I have occasional happy fancies of some sort of spiritual presence with those we love that may be permitted after death, and, if so, how continually I shall be with my darling—alone, or in company—in your walks, or by your fireside—the fervor of my love, my blessing, my whole soul, will surely encompass you!"

"I'm sitting on the stile, Mary, Where we sat side by side, That bright May morning long ago When first you were my bride. The corn was springing fresh and green, The lark sang loud and high, The red was on your lip, Mary, The love-light in your eye."

"I'm very lonely now, Mary,— The poor make no new friends;— But, oh! they love the better still The few our Father sends"

"I'm bidding you a long farewell, My Mary—kind and true! But I'll not forget you, darling, In the land I'm going to. They say there's bread and work for all, And the sun shines always there; But I'll not forget old Ireland, Were it fifty times as fair."

"Oh, Bay of Dublin! How my heart you're troublin', Your beauty haunts me like a fever dream; Like frozen fountains, that the sun sets bubblin' My heart's blood warms when I but hear your name."

"Thou mourner for departed dreams! On earth there is no rest When grief hath troubled the pure streams Of memory in thy breast!"

"Rest now—and weep—thou praised of Earth! And own, when all is done, A world's false worship is not worth The deep tried love of one."

"It has thine own dear playful look— Thy smile! thy sun-bright hair! Thy brow—so like a holy book With sweet thoughts written there! The full, soft lids, half-raised above Those blue and dreamy eyes, Within whose gaze of trusting love No fear—no falsehood lies! Like lonely lakes of Heaven's pure rain Reflecting only Heaven again."

"The Sheridans are much admired but are strange girls, swear and say all sorts of things to make men laugh. I am surprised so sensible a woman as Mrs. Sheridan should let them go on so. I suppose she cannot stop the old blood coming out."

"There is nothing like her—I mean as to agreeability, for I hold myself quite valuable as a companion in the long run, but I don't think I am fit to whisk the dust off her satin slipper in general society."

"This dinner, although merely a family one, was one of the pleasantest I have been at. When there is one such person at table as Lady Dufferin, of course it makes all the difference. She has known everybody, and tells peppery anecdotes, strikes out little portraits, and talks on grave and gay subjects with the same animation and brilliancy. Then, she paints beautifully, having adorned the panels of her own boudoir with her own pencil, and is perpetually writing clever verses. When well dressed, she is very pretty, but she never could have had the beauty of [her sister] Mrs. Norton, who has the head of a classic Muse and the eyes of a sibyl."

"There was much beauty at Rome at that time; no one who was there can have forgotten the beautiful and brilliant Sheridans. I recollect Lady Dufferin at the Easter ceremonies at St. Peter's, in her widow's cap, with a large black crape veil thrown over it, creating quite a sensation. With her exquisite features, oval face, and somewhat fantastical head-dress, anything more lovely could not be conceived; and the Roman people crowded round her in undisguised admiration of "la bella monaca Inglese." Her charm of manner and her brilliant conversation will never be forgotten by those who knew her."

"My elder sister Mrs. Blackwood is delicate, but has all the talent which you know how to prize, for literary composition; and is very musical besides."

"The portrait placed as a frontispiece is after a crayon drawing by [James Rannie Swinton], and is an excellent likeness."