Autumn glows upon us like a splendid evening; it is the very sunset of the year.

I do not think very highly of Madame D'Arblay's books. The style is so strutting. She does so stalk about on Dr. Johnson's old stilts.

There is no running away from a great grief.

I have discovered that our great favourite, Miss Austen, is my countrywoman...with whom mamma before her marriage was acquainted. Mamma says that she was then the prettiest, silliest, most affected, husband-hunting butterfly she ever remembers...

Enthusiasm is very catching, especially when it is very eloquent.

I have had a great misfortune; my dear old dog is dead.

I prepare myself for all disappointments by expecting nothing.