It Isn't What We Say

Know Your Own Happiness.

She Will Never Submit To Any Thing Requiring Industry And Patience, And A Subjection Of The Fancy To The Understanding.

I Am Now Convinced That I Have Never Been Much In Love; For Had I Really Experienced That Pure And Elevating Passion, I Should At Present Detest His Very Name, And Wish Him All Manner Of Evil. But My Feelings Are Not Only Cordial Towards Him; They Are Even Impartial Towards Her. I Cannot Find Out That I Hate Her At All, Or That I Am In The Least Unwilling To Think Her A Very Good Sort Of Girl. There Can Be No Love In All This.

Life Could Do Nothing For Her, Beyond Giving Time For A Better Preparation For Death.

Where The Wound Had Been Given, There Must The Cure Be Found, If Any Where.