There Are Secrets In All Families.

We Have All A Better Guide In Ourselves, If We Would Attend To It, Than Any Other Person Can Be.

Reflection Must Be Reserved For Solitary Hours; Whenever She Was Alone, She Gave Way To It As The Greatest Relief; And Not A Day Went By Without A Solitary Walk, In Which She Might Indulge In All The Delight Of Unpleasant Recollections.

There Are People, Who The More You Do For Them, The Less They Will Do For Themselves.

Walter Scott Has No Business To Write Novels, Especially Good Ones. He Has Fame And Profit Enough As A Poet, And Should Not Be Taking The Bread Out Of Other People's Mouths.

I Have Faults Enough, But They Are Not, I Hope, Of Understanding. My Temper I Dare Not Vouch For. It Is, I Believe, Too Little Yielding— Certainly Too Little For The Convenience Of The World. I Cannot Forget The Follies And Vices Of Other So Soon As I Ought, Nor Their Offenses Against Myself. My Feelings Are Not Puffed About With Every Attempt To Move Them. My Temper Would Perhaps Be Called Resentful. My Good Opinion Once Lost, Is Lost Forever.