Is Not Poetry The Food Of Love?

It Is The Misfortune Of Poetry, To Be Seldom Safely Enjoyed By Those Who Enjoy It Completely.

Do You Talk By Rule, Then, While You Are Dancing?" Sometimes. One Must Speak A Little, You Know. It Would Look Odd To Be Entirely Silent For Half An Hour Together, And Yet For The Advantage Of Some, Conversation Ought To Be So Arranged As That They May Have The Trouble Of Saying As Little As Possible.

Elinor Was To Be The Comforter Of Others In Her Own Distresses, No Less Than In Theirs; And All The Comfort That Could Be Given By Assurances Of Her Own Composure Of Mind, And A Very Earnest Vindication Of Edward From Every Charge But Of Imprudence, Was Readily Offered.

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

Full Many A Flower Is Born To Blush Unseen, And Waste Its Fragrance On The Desert Air.