"Sorrow came--a gentle sorrow--but not at all in the shape of any disagreeable consciousness.--Miss Taylor married. It was Miss Taylor's loss which first brought grief" (178).
"The prospect of four thousand a-year, in addition to his present income, besides the remaining half of his own mother's fortune […] He thought of it all day long, and for many days successively, and he did not repent" (177).
"A monk there was, a mighty one,/Who rode about and loved to hunt./Why should he scramble his brains all night,/Poring over dry and dusty sermons?/Why toil with his hands as Augustine bid?/How then would the world be served?/Let Augustine have his work for him reserved!/And so he rode his horses hard."