A Sick Child Is Always The Mother's

There Are Such Beings In The World -- Perhaps One In A Thousand -- As The Creature You And I Should Think Perfection; Where Grace And Spirit Are United To Worth, Where The Manners Are Equal To The Heart And Understanding; But Such A Person May Not Come In Your Way, Or, If He Does, He May Not Be The Eldest Son Of A Man Of Fortune, The Near Relation Of Your Particular Friend, And Belonging To Your Own County.

I . . . Am Always Half Afraid Of Finding A Clever Novel Too Clever--& Of Finding My Own Story & My Own People All Forestalled.

But To Appear Happy When I Am So Miserable — Oh! Who Can Require It?

I Am Only Resolved To Act In That Manner, Which Will, In My Own Opinion, Constitute My Happiness, Without Reference To You, Or To Any Person So Wholly Unconnected With Me.

Fine Dancing, I Believe Like Virtue, Must Be Its Own Reward. Those Who Are Standing By Are Usually Thinking Of Something Very Different.