I Am Not Fond Of The Idea

To Her Own Heart It Was A Delightful Affair, To Her Imagination It Was Even A Ridiculous One, But To Her Reason, Her Judgment, It Was Completely A Puzzle.

When I Fall In Love, It Will Be Forever.

“it Is Not Everyone,” Said Elinor, “who Has Your Passion For Dead Leaves.”

It Does Not Appear To Me That My Hand Is Unworthy Your Acceptance, Or That The Establishment I Can Offer Would Be Any Other Than Highly Desirable.

An Artist Cannot Do Anything Slovenly.