Far be it from me, my dear sister, to depreciate such pleasures. They would doubtless be congenial with the generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for me. I should infinitely prefer a book.

My characters shall have, after a little trouble, all that they desire.

I begin already to weigh my words and sentences more than I did, and am looking about for a sentiment, an illustration, or a metaphor in every corner of the room. Could my Ideas flow as fast as the rain in the Storecloset it would be charming.

I am no indiscriminate novel reader. The mere trash of the common circulating library I hold in the highest contempt.

Grant us peace, Almighty Father, so to pray as to deserve to be heard.

A man does not recover from such devotion of the heart to such a woman! He ought not; he does not.

Wisdom is better than wit, and in the long run will certainly have the laugh on her side.