One Cannot Fix One's Eyes On The

We Do Not Suffer By Accident.

The Evening Ended With Dancing. On Its Being Proposed, Anne Offered Her Services, As Usual, And Though Her Eyes Would Sometimes Fill With Tears As She Sat At The Instrument, She Was Extremely Glad To Be Employed, And Desired Nothing In Return But To Be Unobserved.

Yet There It Was Not Love. It Was A Little Fever Of Admiration; But It Might, Probably Must, End In Love With Some

To Hope Was To Expect

It Isn't What We Say Or Think That Defines Us, But What We Do.