Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning that
you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself — and yet what is there so very laudable in a precipitance which must leave very necessary business undone, and can be of no real advantage to yourself or anyone else?”
“I dare say you believed it; but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse,
a friend were to say,
you would probably do it, you would probably not go — and, at another word, might stay a month.”
“You have only proved by this,”
“that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much more than he did himself.”
“Would Mr. Darcy then consider the rashness of your original intentions as atoned for by your obstinacy in adhering to it?”
“You expect me to account for opinions which you choose to call mine, but which I have never acknowledged. Allowing the case, however, to stand according to your representation, you must remember, Miss Bennet, that the friend who is supposed to desire his return to the house, and the delay of his plan, has merely desired it, asked it without offering one argument in favour of its propriety.”
“To yield readily — easily — to the persuasion of a friend is no merit with you.”
“To yield without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either.”
“You appear to me, Mr. Darcy, to allow nothing for the influence of friendship and affection. A regard for the requester would often make one readily yield to a request, without waiting for arguments to reason one into it. I am not particularly speaking of such a case as you have supposed about Mr. Bingley. We may as well wait, perhaps, till the circumstance occurs before we discuss the discretion of his behaviour thereupon. But in general and ordinary cases between friend and friend, where one of them is desired by the other to change a resolution of no very great moment, should you think ill of that person for complying with the desire, without waiting to be argued into it?”
“Will it not be advisable, before we proceed on this subject, to arrange with rather more precision the degree of importance which is to appertain to this request, as well as the degree of intimacy subsisting between the parties?”
“I see your design, Bingley,”
“You dislike an argument, and want to silence this.”
“What you ask,”
“is no sacrifice on my side; and Mr. Darcy had much better finish his letter.”
“Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?”
“Oh!”
“I heard you before, but I could not immediately determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’ that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell you, that I do not want to dance a reel at all — and now despise me if you dare.”
“Indeed I do not dare.”
“Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?”
“It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied.”
“This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.”
“No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye.”
he could imagine but two motives for their choosing to walk up and down the room together, with either of which motives his joining them would interfere.
“Not at all,”
“but depend upon it, he means to be severe on us, and our surest way of disappointing him, will be to ask nothing about it.”
“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,”
“You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other's confidence, and have secret affairs to discuss, or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I would be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.”
“Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination,”
“We can all plague and punish one another. Tease him — laugh at him. Intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”
“Mr. Darcy is not to be laughed at!”
“That is an uncommon advantage, and uncommon I hope it will continue, for it would be a great loss to me to have many such acquaintances. I dearly love a laugh.”
“Miss Bingley,”
“has given me more credit than can be. The wisest and the best of men — nay, the wisest and best of their actions — may be rendered ridiculous by a person whose first object in life is a joke.”
“Certainly,”
“there are such people, but I hope I am not one of them. I hope I never ridicule what is wise and good. Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can. But these, I suppose, are precisely what you are without.”
“Perhaps that is not possible for anyone. But it has been the study of my life to avoid those weaknesses which often expose a strong understanding to ridicule.”
“Such as vanity and pride.”
“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride — where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”
“I am perfectly convinced by it that Mr. Darcy has no defect. He owns it himself without disguise.”
“No,”
“I have made no such pretension. I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding. My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding — certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.”
“That is a failing indeed!”
“Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it. You are safe from me.”
“There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil — a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.”
“And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.”
“And yours,”
“is willfully to misunderstand them.”