Tis Best To Build No Castles In

... It's Vastly More Irksome To Give Up One's Own Way, Than To Hear A Few Impertinent Remarks.

While All The Pomp And Circumstance Of War Animated Others, It Only Saddened Me; And All Of Past Reflection, All Of Future Dread, Made The Whole Grandeur Of The Martial Scene, And All The Delusive Seduction Of Martial Music, Fill My Eyes Frequently With Tears.

There Is Something In Age That Ever, Even In Its Own Despite, Must Be Venerable, Must Create Respect And To Have It Ill Treated, Is To Me Worse, More Cruel And Wicked Than Anything On Earth

I Never Pretend To Be So Superior A Being As To Be Above Having And Indulging A Hobby Horse [her Journal Writing], And While I Keep Mine Within Due Bounds And Limits, Nobody, I Flatter Myself, Would Wish To Deprive Me Of The Poor Animal: To Be Sure, He Is Not Formed For Labour, And Is Rather Lame And Weak, But Then The Dear Creature Is Faithful, Constant, And Loving, And Though He Sometimes Prances, Would Not Kick Anyone Into The Mire, Or Hurt A Single Soul For The World--and I Would Not Part With Him For One Who Could Win The Greatest Prize That Ever Was Won At Any Races.

Never Shall I Recollect The Occasion He Gave Me Of Displeasure, Without Feeling It Renewed.