Correct English is the slang of prigs.

The bow always strung ... will not do.

Those who trust us educate us.

It is the way with half the truth amidst which we live, that it only haunts us and makes dull pulsations that are never born into sound.

We reap what we sow, but nature has love over and above that justice, and gives us shadow and blossom and fruit, that spring from no planting of ours.

Family likeness has often a deep sadness in it. Nature, that great tragic dramatist, knits us together by bone and muscle, and divides us by the subtler web of our brains; blends yearning and repulsion; and ties us by our heart-strings to the beings that jar us at every movement.

Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress.