Vanity Was The Beginning And The End

I Cannot Fix On The Hour, Or The Spot, Or The Look Or The Words, Which Laid The Foundation. It Is Too Long Ago. I Was In The Middle Before I Knew That I Had Begun.

There Seemed A Gulf Impassable Between Them.

A Woman Of Seven And Twenty, Said Marianne, After Pausing A Moment, Can Never Hope To Feel Or Inspire Affection Again.

A Lucky Guess Is Never Merely Luck. There Is Always Some Talent In It.

Reflection Must Be Reserved For Solitary Hours; Whenever She Was Alone, She Gave Way To It As The Greatest Relief; And Not A Day Went By Without A Solitary Walk, In Which She Might Indulge In All The Delight Of Unpleasant Recollections.