Love Is In All Things A Most

Your Honour, Unless Your Honour, Without A Moment's Loss Of Time, Makes Sail For The Nearest Shore, This Is A Doomed Ship, And Her Name Is The Coffin!

Flora, Always Tall, Had Grown To Be Very Broad Too, And Short Of Breath; But That Was Not Much. Flora, Whom He Had Left A Lily, Had Become A Peony; But That Was Not Much. Flora, Who Had Seemed Enchanting In All She Said And Thought, Was Diffuse And Silly. That Was Much. Flora, Who Had Been Spoiled And Artless Long Ago, Was Determined To Be Spoiled And Artless Now. That Was A Fatal Blow.

…a Lady Of What Is Commonly Called An Uncertain Temper --a Phrase Which Being Interpreted Signifies A Temper Tolerably Certain To Make Everybody More Or Less Uncomfortable.

Hallo! A Great Deal Of Steam! The Pudding Was Out Of The Copper. A Smell Like A Washing-day! That Was The Cloth. A Smell Like An Eating-house And A Pastrycook's Next Door To Each Other, With A Laundress's Next Door To That. That Was The Pudding.

Don't You Think That Any Secret Course Is An Unworthy One?