How Can I Dispose Of Myself With

If Any One Faculty Of Our Nature May Be Called More Wonderful Than The Rest, I Do Think It Is Memory. There Seems Something More Speakingly Incomprehensible In The Powers, The Failures, The Inequalities Of Memory, Than In Any Other Of Our Intelligences. The Memory Is Sometimes So Retentive, So Serviceable, So Obedient; At Others, So Bewildered And So Weak; And At Others Again, So Tyrannic, So Beyond Control! We Are, To Be Sure, A Miracle Every Way; But Our Powers Of Recollecting And Of Forgetting Do Seem Peculiarly Past Finding Out.

Pride... Is A Very Common Failing, I Believe. By All That I Have Ever Read, I Am Convinced That It Is Very Common Indeed; That Human Nature Is Particularly Prone To It, And That There Are Very Few Of Us Who Do Not Cherish A Feeling Of Self-complacency On The Score Of Some Quality Or The Other, Real Or Imaginary. Vanity And Pride Are Different Things, Though The Words Are Often Used Synonymously. A Person May Be Proud Without Being Vain. Pride Relates More To Our Opinion Of Ourselves, Vanity To What We Would Have Others Think Of Us.

Catherine Had Never Wanted Comfort More, And He [henry] Looked As If He Was Aware Of It.

Not Keep A Journal! How Are Your Absent Cousins To Understand The Tenor Of Your Life In Bath Without One? How Are The Civilities And Compliments Of Every Day To Be Related As They Ought To Be, Unless Noted Down Every Evening In A Journal? How Are Your Various Dresses To Be Remembered, And The Particular State Of Your Complexion, And Curl Of Your Hair To Be Described In All Their Diversities, Without Having Constant Recourse To A Journal?

Everybody Has Their Taste In Noises As Well As In Other Matters; And Sounds Are Quite Innoxious, Or Most Distressing, By Their Sort Rather Than Their Quantity.