I Love You. Most Ardently.

Nobody Could Catch Cold By The Sea; Nobody Wanted Appetite By The Sea; Nobody Wanted Spirits; Nobody Wanted Strength. Sea Air Was Healing, Softening, Relaxing - Fortifying And Bracing - Seemingly Just As Was Wanted - Sometimes One, Sometimes The Other. If The Sea Breeze Failed, The Seabath Was The Certain Corrective; And Where Bathing Disagreed, The Sea Air Alone Was Evidently Designed By Nature For The Cure.

The Musgroves Had Had The Ill Fortune Of A Very Troublesome, Hopeless Son, And The Good Fortune To Lose Him Before He Reached His Twentieth Year.

Life Could Do Nothing For Her, Beyond Giving Time For A Better Preparation For Death.

Fanny! You Are Killing Me!" "no Man Dies Of Love But On The Stage, Mr. Crawford.

Do You Dance, Mr. Darcy?" Darcy: "not If I Can Help It!" Sir William: "what A Charming Amusement For Young People This Is, Mr. Darcy! There Is Nothing Like Dancing, After All. I Consider It As One Of The First Refinements Of Polished Societies." Mr. Darcy: "certainly, Sir; And It Has The Advantage Also Of Being In Vogue Amongst The Less Polished Societies Of The World; Every Savage Can Dance.