Too Many Cooks Spoil The Broth

Eleanor Went To Her Room "where She Was Free To Think And Be Wretched.

I Am No Indiscriminate Novel Reader. The Mere Trash Of The Common Circulating Library I Hold In The Highest Contempt.

He Is A Gentleman; I Am A Gentleman's Daughter; So Far We Are Equal.

When I Look Out On Such A Night As This, I Feel As If There Could Be Neither Wickedness Nor Sorrow In The World; And There Certainly Would Be Less Of Both If The Sublimity Of Nature Were More Attended To, And People Were Carried More Out Of Themselves By Contemplating Such A Scene.

I Always Deserve The Best Treatment Because I Never Put Up With Any Other.