Women Are The Only Correspondents

Whatever Bears Affinity To Cunning Is Despicable.

Perfect Happiness, Even In Memory, Is Not Common.

If Any One Faculty Of Our Nature May Be Called More Wonderful Than The Rest, I Do Think It Is Memory. There Seems Something More Speakingly Incomprehensible In The Powers, The Failures, The Inequalities Of Memory, Than In Any Other Of Our Intelligences. The Memory Is Sometimes So Retentive, So Serviceable, So Obedient; At Others, So Bewildered And So Weak; And At Others Again, So Tyrannic, So Beyond Control! We Are, To Be Sure, A Miracle Every Way; But Our Powers Of Recollecting And Of Forgetting Do Seem Peculiarly Past Finding Out.

There Are People, Who The More You Do For Them, The Less They Will Do For Themselves.

Sophia Shrieked And Fainted On The Ground – I Screamed And Instantly Ran Mad. We Remained Thus Mutually Deprived Of Our Senses, Some Minutes, And On Regaining Them Were Deprived Of Them Again. For An Hour And A Quarter Did We Continue In This Unfortunate Situation – Sophia Fainting Every Moment And I Running Mad As Often. At Length A Groan From The Hapless Edward (who Alone Retained Any Share Of Life) Restored Us To Ourselves.