Fine Dancing, I Believe, Like Virtue, Must

She Is Loveliness Itself.

We Certainly Do Not Forget You, So Soon As You Forget Us. It Is, Perhaps, Our Fate Rather Than Our Merit. We Cannot Help Ourselves.

A Scheme Of Which Every Part Promises Delight, Can Never Be Successful; And General Disappointment Is Only Warded Off By The Defence Of Some Little Peculiar Vexation.

It Sometimes Happens That A Woman Is Handsomer At Twenty-nine Than She Was Ten Years Before.

Know Your Own Happiness.