I Think Him Every Thing That Is

We Certainly Do Not Forget You As Soon As You Forget Us. It Is, Perhaps, Our Fate Rather Than Our Merit. We Cannot Help Ourselves. We Live At Home, Quiet, Confined, And Our Feelings Prey Upon Us. You Are Forced On Exertion. You Have Always A Profession, Pursuits, Business Of Some Sort Or Other, To Take You Back Into The World Immediately, And Continual Occupation And Change Soon Weaken Impressions.

I Leave It To Be Settled, By Whomsoever It May Concern, Whether The Tendency Of This Work Be Altogether To Recommend Parental Tyranny, Or Reward Filial Disobedience.

I Am Excessively Fond Of A Cottage; There Is Always So Much Comfort, So Much Elegance About Them. And I Protest, If I Had Any Money To Spare, I Should Buy A Little Land And Build One Myself, Within A Short Distance Of London, Where I Might Drive Myself Down At Any Time, And Collect A Few Friends About Me And Be Happy. I Advise Everybody Who Is Going To Build, To Build A Cottage.

Told Herself Likewise Not To Hope. But It Was Too Late. Hope Had Already Entered.

I Can Safely Say, That The Happiest Part Of My Life Has Been Spent On Board A Ship.