I am excessively diverted.

A mother would have been always present. A mother would have been a constant friend; her influence would have been beyond all other.

A very short trial convinced her that a curricle was the prettiest equipage in the world.

There could have never been two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.

I will not say that your mulberry trees are dead; but I am afraid they're not alive.

You ought certainly to forgive them as a Christian, but never to admit them in your sight, or allow their names to be mentioned in your hearing.

It is the misfortune of poetry, to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoy it completely.