I Do Believe A Young Lady Can't

He Had Not Breathed A Word Of Love, Or Dropped One Hint Of Tenderness Or Affection, And Yet I Had Been Supremely Happy. To Be Near Him, To Hear Him Talk As He Did Talk, And To Feel That He Thought Me Worthy To Be So Spoken To - Capable Of Understanding And Duly Appreciating Such Discourse - Was Enough.

I Was Sorry For Her; I Was Amazed, Disgusted At Her Heartless Vanity; I Wondered Why So Much Beauty Should Be Given To Those Who Made So Bad A Use Of It, And Denied To Some Who Would Make It A Benefit To Both Themselves And Others. But, God Knows Best, I Concluded. There Are, I Suppose, Some Men As Vain, As Selfish, And As Heartless As She Is, And, Perhaps, Such Women May Be Useful To Punish Them.

Adieu! But Let Me Cherish, Still, The Hope With Which I Cannot Part. Contempt May Wound, And Coldness Chill, But Still It Lingers In My Heart. And Who Can Tell But Heaven, At Last, May Answer All My Thousand Prayers, And Bid The Future Pay The Past With Joy For Anguish, Smiles For Tears?

There Are Great Books In This World And Great Worlds In Books.

Because I Imagine There Must Be Only A Very, Very Few Men In The World, That I Should Like To Marry; And Of Those Few, It Is Ten To One I May Never Be Acquainted With One; Or If I Should, It Is Twenty To One He May Not Happen To Be Single, Or To Take A Fancy To Me.