Let Us Have The Luxury Of Silence.

This Was A Lucky Recollection -- It Saved Her From Something Like Regret.

I Have Faults Enough, But They Are Not, I Hope, Of Understanding. My Temper I Dare Not Vouch For. It Is, I Believe, Too Little Yielding— Certainly Too Little For The Convenience Of The World. I Cannot Forget The Follies And Vices Of Other So Soon As I Ought, Nor Their Offenses Against Myself. My Feelings Are Not Puffed About With Every Attempt To Move Them. My Temper Would Perhaps Be Called Resentful. My Good Opinion Once Lost, Is Lost Forever.

Let Us Have The Luxury Of Silence.

What Do You Know Of My Heart? What Do You Know Of Anything But Your Own Suffering?

None Of Us Want To Be In Calm Waters All Our Lives.