I Cannot Love A Man Who Cannot

Preserve Me From Such Cordiality! It Is Like Handling Briar-roses And May-blossoms - Bright Enough To The Eye, And Outwardly Soft To The Touch, But You Know There Are Thorns Beneath, And Every Now And Then You Feel Them Too; And Perhaps Resent The Injury By Crushing Them In Till You Have Destroyed Their Power, Though Somewhat To The Detriment Of Your Own Fingers.

There's Nothing Like Active Employment, I Suppose, To Console The Afflicted.

Because I Imagine There Must Be Only A Very, Very Few Men In The World, That I Should Like To Marry; And Of Those Few, It Is Ten To One I May Never Be Acquainted With One; Or If I Should, It Is Twenty To One He May Not Happen To Be Single, Or To Take A Fancy To Me.

I Will Give My Whole Heart And Soul To My Maker If I Can,' I Answered, 'and Not One Atom More Of It To You Than He Allows. What Are You, Sir, That You Should Set Yourself Up As A God, And Presume To Dispute Possession Of My Heart With Him To Whom I Owe All I Have And All I Am, Every Blessing I Ever Did Or Ever Can Enjoy - And Yourself Among The Rest - If You Are A Blessing, Which I Am Half Inclined To Doubt.

No; For Instead Of Delivering Myself Up To The Full Enjoyment Of The As Others Do, I Am Always Troubling My Head About How I Could Produce The Same Effect Upon Canvas; And As That Can Never Be Done, It Is Mere Vanity And Vexation Of Spirit.