Men Of Sense, Whatever You May Choose

I Believe You [men] Capable Of Everything Great And Good In Your Married Lives. I Believe You Equal To Every Important Exertion, And To Every Domestic Forbearance, So Long As - If I May Be Allowed The Expression, So Long As You Have An Object. I Mean, While The Woman You Love Lives, And Lives For You. All The Privilege I Claim For My Own Sex (it Is Not A Very Enviable One, You Need Not Covet It) Is That Of Loving Longest, When Existence Or When Hope Is Gone.

A Sick Child Is Always The Mother's Property; Her Own Feelings Generally Make It So.

My Ideas Flow So Rapidly That I Have Not Time To Express Them──by Which Means My Letters Sometimes Convey No Ideas At All To My Correspondents.

You Think Me Foolish To Call Instruction A Torment, But If You Had Been As Much Used As Myself To Hear Poor Little Children First Learning Their Letters And Then Learning To Spell, If You Had Ever Seen How Stupid They Can Be For A Whole Morning Together, And How Tired My Poor Mother Is At The End Of It, As I Am In The Habit Of Seeing Almost Every Day Of My Life At Home, You Would Allow That To Torment And To Instruct Might Sometimes Be Used As Synonymous Words.

I Have No More To Say. If This Be The Case, He Deserves You. I Could Not Have Parted With You, My Lizzy, To Any One Less Worthy.