I truly thought it was one of the saddest things I'd ever read. Not that there was anything wrong with the profession: just that it was such a noble, idealistic thought. And you knew he'd never be able to accomplish his dream, and would probably end up sliding further down the slippery slope he was on.

And sorry, Resha, but Jane Austen is absolutely atrocious. Pride and Prejudice was utterly predictable and valueless. There are much better love stories out there. And Austen's writing is particularly blech, but I'm not much of a fan of a lot of 18th/19th century literature, so that's partially just my distaste for the style of english.