My Characters Shall Have, After A Little

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

Not Very Good, I Am Afraid. But Now Really, Do Not You Think Udolpho The Nicest Book In The World?" "the Nicest—by Which I Suppose You Mean The Neatest. That Must Depend Upon The Binding.

I Use The Verb 'to Torment,' As I Observed To Be Your Own Method, Instead Of 'to Instruct,' Supposing Them To Be Now Admitted As Synonymous.

A Mr. (save, Perhaps, Some Half Dozen In The Nation,) Always Needs A Note Of Explanation.

You Pierce My Soul. I Am Half Agony, Half Hope. Tell Me Not That I Am Too Late, That Such Precious Feelings Are Gone For Ever.