Marry Me. Marry Me, My Wonderful, Darling

A Woman Of Seven And Twenty, Said Marianne, After Pausing A Moment, Can Never Hope To Feel Or Inspire Affection Again.

I Have Never Yet Found That The Advice Of A Sister Could Prevent A Young Man's Being In Love If He Chose It.

I Could Not Sit Seriously Down To Write A Serious Romance Under Any Other Motive Than To Save My Life, & If It Were Indispensable For Me To Keep It Up & Never Relax Into Laughing At Myself Or Other People, I Am Sure I Should Be Hung Before I Had Finished The First Chapter. No - I Must Keep My Own Style & Go On In My Own Way; And Though I May Never Succeed Again In That, I Am Convinced That I Should Totally Fail In Any Other.

Sir Walter Elliot, Of Kellynch-hall, In Somersetshire, Was A Man Who, For His Own Amusement, Never Took Up Any Book But The Barontage; There He Found Occupation For An Idle Hour, And Consolation In A Distressed One; . . .

If I Was Wrong In Yielding To Persuasion Once, Remember That It Was To Persuasion Exerted On The Side Of Safety, Not Of Risk. When I Yielded, I Thought It Was To Duty; But No Duty Could Be Called In Aid Here. In Marrying A Man Indifferent To Me, All Risk Would Have Been Incurred And All Duty Violated.