I Wrote Without Much Effort; For I

I Am Going To Take A Heroine Whom No One But Myself Will Much Like

Good-humoured, Unaffected Girls, Will Not Do For A Man Who Has Been Used To Sensible Women. They Are Two Distinct Orders Of Being.

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.

I Begin Already To Weigh My Words And Sentences More Than I Did, And Am Looking About For A Sentiment, An Illustration, Or A Metaphor In Every Corner Of The Room. Could My Ideas Flow As Fast As The Rain In The Storecloset It Would Be Charming.

One Half Of Her Should Not Be Always So Much Wiser Than The Other Half.