Facts or opinions which are to pass through the hands of so many, to be misconceived by folly in one, and ignorance in another, can hardly have much truth left.

Faultless in spite of all her faults.

Now I must give one smirk and then we may be rational again

I am not fond of the idea of my shrubberies being always approachable.

But are they all horrid, are you sure they are all horrid? [Referring to Gothic novels, fashionable in England at the beginning of the 19th century, but frowned upon in polite society.]

Everybody's heart is open, you know, when they have recently escaped from severe pain, or are recovering the blessing of health.

My ideas flow so rapidly that I have not time to express them──by which means my letters sometimes convey no ideas at all to my correspondents.