Had I Not Been Bound To Silence

I Can Recollect Nothing More To Say At Present; Perhaps Breakfast May Assist My Ideas. I Was Deceived -- My Breakfast Supplied Only Two Ideas -- That The Rolls Were Good And The Butter Bad.

And If I Had Not A Letter To Write Myself, I Might Sit By You And Admire The Evenness Of Your Writing, As Another Young Lady Once Did. But I Have An Aunt Too, Who Must Not Be Longer Neglected.

A Man Who Has Nothing To Do With His Own Time Has No Conscience In His Intrusion On That Of Others.

His Cold Politeness, His Ceremonious Grace, Were Worse Than Anything.

I Mean To Be Too Rich To Lament Or To Feel Anything Of The Sort. A Large Income Is The Best Recipe For Happiness I Ever Heard Of. It Certainly May Secure All The Myrtle And Turkey Part Of It.