If I Were Not A Child With

Well, Buttermere, This Is A Day That Is Good To Live And Breathe In, That Makes A Man Feel In His Prime. Standing Here In Front Of My House, I Feel As Young As When I Moved Into It Thirty Years Ago, In The Year Eighteen Hundred And Fifty-nine. What Aged Man Would You Take Me To Be, As I Step As It Were Casually Into Your View?

Our Desires Have A Way Of Getting Bigger With Our Incomes.

The Most Original Novelist Now Writing In English.

Duty Is Seldom Liked Either By The Doer Or The Object ... And Why Should It Be? It Is Not Often Of Advantage To Either.

We Are Always Children To Our Mothers.