O ay, letters - I had letters - I am persecuted with letters - I hate letters - nobody knows how to write letters; and yet one has 'em, one does not know why - they serve one to pin up one's hair.

Marriage indeed may qualify the fury of his passion, but it very rarely mends a man's manners.

These articles subscribed, if I continue to endure you a little longer, I may by degrees dwindle into wife.

I nauseate walking; 'tis a country diversion, I loathe the country.

I am a fool, I know it; and yet, Heaven help me, I'm poor enough to be a wit.

Say what you will, 'tis better to be left than never to have been loved.

She once used me with that insolence, that in revenge I took her to pieces; sifted her, and separated her failings; I studied 'em, and got 'em by rote. The catalogue was so large, that I was not without hopes, one day or other to hate her heartily.