My Sore Throats Are Always Worse Than

You Showed Me How Insufficient Were All My Pretensions To Please A Woman Worthy Of Being Pleased.

You Pierce My Soul. I Am Half Agony, Half Hope. Tell Me Not That I Am Too Late, That Such Precious Feelings Are Gone For Ever.

She Looked Back As Well As She Could; But It Was All Confusion. She Had Taken Up The Idea, She Supposed And Made Everything Bend To It.

What Strange Creatures Brothers Are!

The World May Know My Words, But It Has No Such Privileges With My Heart