the Musgroves had had the ill fortune of a very troublesome, hopeless son, and the good fortune to lose him before he reached his twentieth year.
To wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect
And pictures of perfection, as you know, make me sick and wicked.
it is a shocking trick for a young person to be always lolling upon a sofa.
Is not poetry the food of love?
To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.