Letter-writing On The Part Of A Busy

The Vanity Of Man Revolts From The Serene Indifference Of The Cat.

For Indeed All That We Think So New To-day Has Been Acted Over And Over Again, A Shifting Comedy, By The Women Of Every Century.

[mary Wortley Montagu] Wrote More Letters, With Fewer Punctuation Marks, Than Any Englishwoman Of Her Day; And Her Nephew, The Fourth Baron Rokeby, Nearly Blinded Himself In Deciphering The Two Volumes Of Undated Correspondence Which Were Printed In 1810. Two More Followed In 1813, After Which The Gallant Baron Either Died At His Post Or Was Smitten With Despair; For Sixty-eight Cases Of Letters Lay Undisturbed ... 'les Morts N'écrivent Point,' Said Madame De Maintenon Hopefully; But Of What Benefit Is This Inactivity, When We Still Continue To Receive Their Letters?

Edged Tools Are Dangerous Things To Handle, And Not Infrequently Do Much Hurt.

Wit Is As Infinite As Love, And A Deal More Lasting In Its Qualities.