Too Many Cooks Spoil The Broth

Mr. Bennet's Expectations Were Fully Answered. His Cousin Was As Absurd As He Had Hoped, And He Listened To Him With The Keenest Enjoyment.

I Have Been Used To Consider Poetry As "the Food Of Love" Said Darcy. "of A Fine, Stout, Healthy Love It May. Everything Nourishes What Is Strong Already. But If It Be Only A Slight, Thin Sort Of Inclination, I Am Convinced That One Good Sonnet Will Starve It Entirely Away.

And Pictures Of Perfection, As You Know, Make Me Sick And Wicked.

She Hoped To Be Wise And Reasonable In Time; But Alas! Alas! She Must Confess To Herself That She Was Not Wise Yet.

I Take No Leave Of You, Miss Bennet: I Send No Compliments To Your Mother. You Deserve No Such Attention. I Am Most Seriously Displeased.