You Might As Well Sell Yourself To

In Love Affairs, There Is No Mediator Like A Merry, Simple-hearted Child - Ever Ready To Cement Divided Hearts, To Span The Unfriendly Gulf Of Custom, To Melt The Ice Of Cold Reserve, And Overthrow The Separating Walls Of Dread Formality And Pride.

He Is Very Fond Of Me, Almost Too Fond. I Could Do With Less Caressing And More Rationality. I Should Like To Be Less Of A Pet And More Of A Friend, If I Might Choose; But I Won't Complain Of That: I Am Only Afraid His Affection Loses In Depth Where It Gains In Ardour. I Sometimes Liken It To A Fire Of Dry Twigs And Branches Compared With One Of Solid Coal, Very Bright And Hot; But If It Should Burn Itself Out And Leave Nothing But Ashes Behind.

Farewell To Thee! But Not Farewell To All My Fondest Thoughts Of Thee; Within My Heart They Still Shall Dwell And They Shall Cheer And Comfort Me.

A Little Girl Loves Her Bird--why? Because It Lives And Feels; Because It Is Helpless And Harmless? A Toad, Likewise, Lives And Feels, And Is Equally Helpless And Harmless; But Though She Would Not Hurt A Toad, She Cannot Love It Like The Bird, With Its Graceful Form, Soft Feathers, And Bright, Speaking Eyes.

Forgetfulness Is Not To Be Purchased With A Wish; And I Cannot Bestow My Esteem On All Who Desire It, Unless They Deserve It Too.