Where people are really attached, poverty itself is wealth.

And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you and admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But I have an aunt too, who must not be longer neglected.

I am all astonishment.

“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with one's friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”

Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery. I quit such odious subjects as soon as I can, impatient to restore everybody not greatly in fault themselves to tolerable comfort, and to have done with all the rest.

But your mind is warped by an innate principle of general integrity, and, therefore, not accessible to the cool reasonings of family partiality, or a desire of revenge.

Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can.