To Enjoy Yourself Is The Easy Method

Our First Love-letter ... There Is So Much To Be Said, And Which No Words Seems Exactly To Say - The Dread Of Saying Too Much Is So Nicely Balanced By The Fear Of Saying Too Little. Hope Borders On Presumption, And Fear On Reproach.

Jealousy Ought To Be Tragic, To Save It From Being Ridiculous.

It Merely Shews, After All, That Affection Is A Habit.

The Very Effort To Forget Teaches Us To Remember.

I Can Pass Days Stretch'd In The Shade Of Those Old Cedar Trees, Watching The Sunshine Like A Blessing Fall,-- The Breeze Like Music Wandering O'er The Boughs, Each Tree A Natural Harp,--each Different Leaf A Different Note, Blent In One Vast Thanksgiving.