The cool peace and dewy sweetness of the night filled me with a mood of hope: not hope on any definite point, but a general sense of encouragement and heart-ease.
To you I am neither man nor woman. I come before you as an author only.
I could not help it: the restlessness was in my nature; it agitated me to pain sometimes.
Little Jane's love would have been my best reward, without it, my heart is broken.
I only want an easy mind, sir; not crushed by crowded obligations.
I am not your dear; I cannot lie down: send me to school soon, Mrs. Reed, for I hate to live here.