I Want Nothing But Death.

She Knew That When She Played She Was Giving Pleasure Only To Herself; But This Was No New Sensation

Indulge Your Imagination In Every Possible Flight.

I Have Now Attained The True Art Of Letter-writing, Which We Are Always Told, Is To Express On Paper Exactly What One Would Say To The Same Person By Word Of Mouth.

She Thought It Was The Misfortune Of Poetry, To Be Seldom Safely Enjoyed By Those Who Enjoyed It Completely; And That The Strong Feelings Which Alone Could Estimate It Truly, Were The Very Feelings Which Ought To Taste It But Sparingly.

Yes," Replied Darcy, Who Could Contain Himself No Longer, "but That Was When I First Knew Her; For It Is Many Months Since I Have Considered Her As One Of The Handsomest Women Of My Acquaintance.