What A Shame, For I Dearly Love

You Think Me Foolish To Call Instruction A Torment, But If You Had Been As Much Used As Myself To Hear Poor Little Children First Learning Their Letters And Then Learning To Spell, If You Had Ever Seen How Stupid They Can Be For A Whole Morning Together, And How Tired My Poor Mother Is At The End Of It, As I Am In The Habit Of Seeing Almost Every Day Of My Life At Home, You Would Allow That To Torment And To Instruct Might Sometimes Be Used As Synonymous Words.

I Read It [history] A Little As A Duty, But It Tells Me Nothing That Does Not Either Vex Or Weary Me. The Quarrels Of Popes And Kings, With Wars Or Pestilences, In Every Page; The Men All So Good For Nothing, And Hardly Any Women At All — It Is Very Tiresome: And Yet I Often Think It Odd That It Should Be So Dull, For A Great Deal Of It Must Be Invention.

Know Your Own Happiness.

Friendship Is Certainly The Finest Balm For The Pangs Of Disappointed Love.

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.