Everybody Likes To Go Their Own Way–to

There Are Such Beings In The World -- Perhaps One In A Thousand -- As The Creature You And I Should Think Perfection; Where Grace And Spirit Are United To Worth, Where The Manners Are Equal To The Heart And Understanding; But Such A Person May Not Come In Your Way, Or, If He Does, He May Not Be The Eldest Son Of A Man Of Fortune, The Near Relation Of Your Particular Friend, And Belonging To Your Own County.

She Went, However, And They Sauntered About Together Many A Half Hour In Mr. Grant's Shrubbery, The Weather Being Unusually Mild For The Time Of Year, And Venturing Sometimes Even To Sit Down On One Of The Benches Now Comparatively Unsheltered, Remaining There Perhaps Till, In The Midst Of Some Tender Ejaculation Of Fanny's On The Sweets Of So Protracted An Autumn, They Were Forced By The Sudden Swell Of A Cold Gust Shaking Down The Last Few Yellow Leaves About Them, To Jump Up And Walk For Warmth.

It Would Be Mortifying To The Feelings Of Many Ladies, Could They Be Made To Understand How Little The Heart Of A Man Is Affected By What Is Costly Or New In Their Attire.

Where Any One Body Of Educated Men, Of Whatever Denomination, Are Condemned Indiscriminately, There Must Be A Deficiency Of Information, Or...of Something Else.

Nay," Cried Bingley, "this Is Too Much, To Remember At Night All The Foolish Things That Were Said In The Morning.