I Never Wish To Offend, But I

Friendship Is Certainly The Finest Balm For The Pangs Of Disappointed Love.

It Was A Gloomy Prospect, And All That She Could Do Was To Throw A Mist Over It, And Hope When The Mist Cleared Away, She Should See Something Else.

Nothing Is More Deceitful Than The Appearance Of Humility.

I Have Now Attained The True Art Of Letter-writing, Which We Are Always Told, Is To Express On Paper Exactly What One Would Say To The Same Person By Word Of Mouth.

She Mediated, By Turns, On Broken Promises And Broken Arches, Phaetons And False Hangings, Tilneys And Trap-doors.