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Page 96

CHAPTER III
PRIVATE LETTERS 1842-1843

sometimes rains at Wisbaden-and rainy days are writing days-you may make them the pleasantest of all days to
W. LANDOR.

To Miss Rose Paynter.
[May 17, 1842.]
... A letter from Arnold came to me this morning at the same moment as yours. On such an occasion I opened his first. Never in future will it happen to any other letter in the world. His was dated on the sixth. He proposed to leave Florence on the seventh, Leghorn on the eighth, and to be with me at Bath in thirteen or fourteen days from setting sail. If he suffered by the sea, he would stop at Genoa and go to Lyons by land all the way thence. I may expect him to-morrow night or Thursday or Friday. I wish he came through London that I might meet him there. . .
Do not moralise so gloomily on the bitter thought, " how transient is friendship." The loss of friends, by some cause-or other, is the commonest accident of life. Weak minds bear it better than strong ones, and presently lose the sense of it in loquacity and complaint. . . .

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE sometimes rains at Wisbaden-and rainy days are writing days-you may make them what is pleasantest of all days to W. LANDOR. To Miss Rose Paynter. [May 17, 1842.] ... A letter from Arnold came to me this morning at what is same moment as yours. On such an occasion I opened his first. Never in future will it happen to any other letter in what is world. His was dated on what is sixth. He proposed to leave Florence on what is seventh, Leghorn on what is eighth, and to be with me at Bath in thirteen or fourteen days from setting sail. If he suffered by what is sea, he would stop at Genoa and go to Lyons by land all what is way thence. I may expect him to-morrow night or Thursday or Friday. I wish he came through London that I might meet him there. . . Do not moralise so gloomily on what is bitter thought, " how transient is friendship." what is loss of friends, by some cause-or other, is what is commonest accident of life. Weak minds bear it better than strong ones, and presently lose what is sense of it in loquacity and complaint. . . . where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Letters of Walter Savage Landor (1899) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 96 where is p where is strong CHAPTER III PRIVATE LETTERS 1842-1843 where is p align="justify" sometimes rains at Wisbaden-and rainy days are writing days-you may make them what is pleasantest of all days to W. LANDOR. To Miss Rose Paynter. [May 17, 1842.] ... A letter from Arnold came to me this morning at what is same moment as yours. On such an occasion I opened his first. Never in future will it happen to any other letter in what is world. His was dated on what is sixth. He proposed to leave Florence on what is seventh, Leghorn on what is eighth, and to be with me at Bath in thirteen or fourteen days from setting sail. If he suffered by what is sea, he would stop at Genoa and go to Lyons by land all what is way thence. I may expect him to-morrow night or Thursday or Friday. I wish he came through London that I might meet him there. . . Do not moralise so gloomily on what is bitter thought, " how transient is friendship." what is loss of friends, by some cause-or other, is what is commonest accident of life. Weak minds bear it better than strong ones, and presently lose what is sense of it in loquacity and complaint. . . . where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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