Portable Property Is Happiness In A Pocketbook.

We Are All Fools In Love.

She Felt That She Could So Much More Depend Upon The Sincerity Of Those Who Sometimes Looked Or Said A Careless Or A Hasty Thing, Than Of Those Whose Presence Of Mind Never Varied, Whose Tongue Never Slipped.

The Longer They Were Together The More Doubtful Seemed The Nature Of His Regard, And Sometimes For A Few Painful Minutes She Believed It To Be No More Than Friendship

A Man Would Always Wish To Give A Woman A Better Home Than The One He Takes Her From; And He Who Can Do It, Where There Is No Doubt Of Her Regard, Must, I Think, Be The Happiest Of Mortals.

Marry Me. Marry Me, My Wonderful, Darling Friend.