To Everything There Is An End -

Jane Had That Happy Disposition Which Would Like To Imagine That Every One Really Wishes The Well-being Of His Neighbour And Struggles, Though Sometimes Rather Disastrously, To Help Him Towards It.

Poets, When They Write Of Love, Give Themselves And Everyone Else Away!

Some Of Us Cling To Our Curses If We Haven't Anything Better To Cling To!

A Man Whose Every Exertion Is Bent Upon Showing Up The Flaws In His Wife's Character Must Be At Least Partially Responsible For Some Of Them.

... Most People Are Dead, And None Of Them Seem To Mind It. One Hears A Great Many Complaints About Life, Doesn't One? And There Are People I Know Who Would Certainly Grumble -- However Dead They Were -- If There Were Anything To Grumble At.