One Half Of The World Cannot Understand

They Gave Themselves Up Wholly To Their Sorrow, Seeking Increase Of Wretchedness In Every Reflection That Could Afford It, And Resolved Against Ever Admitting Consolation In Future.

Such Squeamish Youths As Cannot Bear To Be Connected With A Little Absurdity Are Not Worth A Regret.

And Now I May Dismiss My Heroine To The Sleepless Couch, Which Is The True Heroine's Portion - To A Pillow Strewed With Thorns And Wet With Tears. And Lucky May She Think Herself, If She Get Another Good Night's Rest In The Course Of The Next Three Months.

There Are Few People Whom I Really Love And Still Fewer Of Whom I Think Well.

The Younger Brother Must Help To Pay For The Pleasures Of The Elder.