She Will Never Submit To Any Thing

Oh! Write, Write. Finish It At Once. Let There Be An End Of This Suspense. Fix, Commit, Condemn Yourself.

To Be So Bent On Marriage - To Pursue A Man Merely For The Sake Of Situation - Is A Sort Of Thing That Shocks Me; I Cannot Understand It. Poverty Is A Great Evil, But To A Woman Of Education And Feeling It Ought Not, It Cannot Be The Greatest. I Would Rather Be A Teacher At A School (and I Can Think Of Nothing Worse) Than Marry A Man I Did Not Like.

As A Brother, A Landlord, A Master, She Considered How Many People's Happiness Were In His Guardianship! -- How Much Of Pleasure Or Pain It Was In His Power To Bestow! -- How Much Of Good Or Evil Must Be Done By Him!

Vanity Was The Beginning And The End Of Sir Walter Elliot's Character; Vanity Of Person And Of Situation. He Had Been Remarkably Handsome In His Youth; And, At Fifty-four, Was Still A Very Fine Man. Few Women Could Think More Of Their Personal Appearance Than He Did, Nor Could The Valet Of Any New Made Lord Be More Delighted With The Place He Held In Society. He Considered The Blessing Of Beauty As Inferior Only To The Blessing Of A Baronetcy; And The Sir Walter Elliott, Who United These Gifts, Was The Constant Object Of His Warmest Respect And Devotion.

To Flatter And Follow Others, Without Being Flattered And Followed In Turn, Is But A State Of Half Enjoyment.