Beauties Are Always Curious About Beauties, And

Habit Is, To Weak Minds, A Species Of Moral Predestination, From Which They Have No Power To Escape.

A Love-match Was The Only Thing For Happiness, Where The Parties Could Any Way Afford It.

Sir Patrick Rackrent Lived And Died A Monument Of Old Irish Hospitality.

When Driven To The Necessity Of Explaining, I Found That I Did Not Myself Understand What I Meant.

In Marrying, A Man Does Not, To Be Sure, Marry His Wife's Mother; And Yet A Prudent Man, When He Begins To Think Of The Daughter, Would Look Sharp At The Mother; Ay, And Back To The Grandmother Too, And Along The Whole Female Line Of Ancestry.