For What Do We Live,

In A Letter From Bath To Her Sister, Cassandra, One Senses Her Frustration At Her Sheltered Existence, Tuesday, 12 May 1801. Another Stupid Party . . . With Six People To Look On, And Talk Nonsense To Each Other.

Whatever Bears Affinity To Cunning Is Despicable.

I Have No Talent For Certainty.

What One Means One Day, You Know, One May Not Mean The Next. Circumstances Change, Opinions Alter.

Thus Much Indeed He Was Obliged To Acknowledge - That He Had Been Constant Unconsciously, Nay Unintentionally; That He Had Meant To Forget Her, And Believed It To Be Done. He Had Imagined Himself Indifferent, When He Had Only Been Angry; And He Had Been Unjust To Her Merits, Because He Had Been A Sufferer From Them.