Sir Walter Elliot, Of Kellynch-hall, In Somersetshire,

Everybody Likes To Go Their Own Way–to Choose Their Own Time And Manner Of Devotion.

I Have Not The Pleasure Of Understanding You.

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.

There Is Something In The Eloquence Of The Pulpit, When It Is Really Eloquence, Which Is Entitled To The Highest Praise And Honour. The Preacher Who Can Touch And Affect Such An Heterogeneous Mass Of Hearers, On Subjects Limited, And Long Worn Thread-bare In All Common Hands; Who Can Say Any Thing New Or Striking, Any Thing That Rouses The Attention, Without Offending The Taste, Or Wearing Out The Feelings Of His Hearers, Is A Man Whom One Could Not (in His Public Capacity) Honour Enough.

But Remember That The Pain Of Parting From Friends Will Be Felt By Everybody At Times, Whatever Be Their Education Or State. Know Your Own Happiness. You Want Nothing But Patience; Or Give It A More Fascinating Name: Call It Hope.