Men Of Sense, Whatever You May Choose

One Cannot Know What A Man Really Is By The End Of A Fortnight.

I Have Been Used To Consider Poetry As "the Food Of Love" Said Darcy. "of A Fine, Stout, Healthy Love It May. Everything Nourishes What Is Strong Already. But If It Be Only A Slight, Thin Sort Of Inclination, I Am Convinced That One Good Sonnet Will Starve It Entirely Away.

It's Such A Happiness When Good People Get Together.

She Felt That She Could So Much More Depend Upon The Sincerity Of Those Who Sometimes Looked Or Said A Careless Or A Hasty Thing, Than Of Those Whose Presence Of Mind Never Varied, Whose Tongue Never Slipped.

There Will Be Little Rubs And Disappointments Everywhere, And We Are All Apt To Expect Too Much; But Then, If One Scheme Of Happiness Fails, Human Nature Turns To Another; If The First Calculation Is Wrong, We Make A Second Better: We Find Comfort Somewhere.