Every Impulse Of Feeling Should

Provided That Nothing Like Useful Knowledge Could Be Gained From Them, Provided They Were All Story And No Reflection, She Had Never Any Objection To Books At All.

How Little Of Permanent Happiness Could Belong To A Couple Who Were Only Brought Together Because Their Passions Were Stronger Than Their Virtue.

When Any Two Young People Take It Into Their Heads To Marry, They Are Pretty Sure By Perseverance To Carry Their Point, Be They Ever So Poor, Or Ever So Imprudent, Or Ever So Little Likely To Be Necessary To Each Other's Ultimate Comfort.

She Was Feeling, Thinking, Trembling About Everything; Agitated, Happy, Miserable, Infinitely Obliged, Absolutely Angry.

There Is Something In The Eloquence Of The Pulpit, When It Is Really Eloquence, Which Is Entitled To The Highest Praise And Honour. The Preacher Who Can Touch And Affect Such An Heterogeneous Mass Of Hearers, On Subjects Limited, And Long Worn Thread-bare In All Common Hands; Who Can Say Any Thing New Or Striking, Any Thing That Rouses The Attention, Without Offending The Taste, Or Wearing Out The Feelings Of His Hearers, Is A Man Whom One Could Not (in His Public Capacity) Honour Enough.