A Mind Lively And At Ease, Can

Fanny! You Are Killing Me!" "no Man Dies Of Love But On The Stage, Mr. Crawford.

He Could Not Forgive Her, But He Could Not Be Unfeeling. Though Condemning Her For The Past, And Considering It With High And Unjust Resentment, Though Perfectly Careless Of Her, And Though Becoming Attached To Another, Still He Could Not See Her Suffer, Without The Desire Of Giving Her Relief. It Was A Remainder Of Former Sentiment; It Was An Impulse Of Pure, Though Unacknowledged Friendship; It Was A Proof Of His Own Warm And Amiable Heart.

...when Pain Is Over, The Remembrance Of It Often Becomes A Pleasure.

They Are Much To Be Pitied Who Have Not Been Given A Taste For Nature Early In Life.

Walter Scott Has No Business To Write Novels, Especially Good Ones. He Has Fame And Profit Enough As A Poet, And Should Not Be Taking The Bread Out Of Other People's Mouths.