Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?

I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding— certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.

Perhaps it is our imperfections that make us so perfect for one another.

Do not give way to useless alarm; though it is right to be prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain.

You deserve a longer letter than this; but it is my unhappy fate seldom to treat people so well as they deserve.

It was a delightful visit;-perfect, in being much too short.

Good company requires only birth, education, and manners, and with regard to education is not very nice. Birth and good manners are essential; but a little learning is by no means a dangerous thing in good company; on the contrary, it will do very well.