I wonder what they are all doingwhether his sisters knowif he is unhappy
, they will be unhappy
My dearest girl, dearer to me than anything in life, if you are unhappy
, let me share your unhappiness.
Laws and systems are meant for the unhappy
and the untractable, not for people like you, for whom Love makes its own laws.
My mother, daroga, my poor, unhappy
mother would never
Prince Saphir, who loved his father very dearly, was so unhappy
at this that he persuaded himself that he might succeed where the others had failed, and at once prepared himself for a more distant search.
Born of Morisco parents, I am of that nation, more unhappy
than wise, upon which of late a sea of woes has poured down.
Raoul was seated at table with the Count de Guiche and his tutor, when all at once the door opened and Grimaud presented himself, travel-stained, dirty, and sprinkled with the blood of the unhappy
As the Daughter of my most intimate freind I think you entitled to that knowledge of my unhappy
story, which your Mother has so often solicited me to give you.
The young fellow has by no means been unhappy
there; the best lodging the Bastile affords has been his.
She blushed deeply as she answered: "I was so unhappy
about Sir James that I could not help--I have done something very wrong, I know; but you have not an idea of the misery I have been in: and mamma had ordered me never to speak to you or my uncle about it, and--" "You therefore spoke to my brother to engage his interference," said I, to save her the explanation.
It is my great sorrow, and makes my life very unhappy
Wives are unhappy
sometimes; from no fault of their husbands--from their own.
There was nothing mean or ungenerous in the young man's heart, and he was glad that his future wife should not be restrained by false prudery from being kind (in private) to her unhappy
cousin; but to receive Countess Olenska in the family circle was a different thing from producing her in public, at the Opera of all places, and in the very box with the young girl whose engagement to him, Newland Archer, was to be announced within a few weeks.
That leather bed on which so many unhappy
wretches had writhed, frightened her.
He had already quite a collection of prizes, worthless books on bad paper, but in gorgeous bindings decorated with the arms of the school: his position had freed him from bullying, and he was not unhappy