Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

Search

Your search returned 3797 results


the carriage might be sent for them in the course of the day.
to be particularly careful that no sign of admiration should now escape him, nothing that could elevate her with the hope of influencing his felicity; sensible that if such an idea had been suggested, his behaviour during the last day must have material weight in confirming or crushing it.
“Though it is difficult,”
“to guess in what way he can mean to make us the atonement he thinks our due, the wish is certainly to his credit.”
“He must be an oddity, I think,”
“I cannot make him out. — There is something very pompous in his style. — And what can he mean by apologising for being next in the entail? — We cannot suppose he would help it if he could. — Could he be a sensible man, sir?”
“In point of composition,”
“the letter does not seem defective. The idea of the olive-branch perhaps is not wholly new, yet I think it is well expressed.”
“Do you know, mamma,
that
My aunt told me so herself on Saturday. I shall walk to Meryton to-morrow to hear more about it, and to ask when Mr. Denny comes back from town.”
What could be the meaning of it?
she had neither been seeing him before, nor thinking of him since, with the smallest degree of unreasonable admiration.
the commonest, dullest, most threadbare topic might be rendered interesting by the skill of the speaker.
“About a month,”
“He is a man of very large property in Derbyshire, I understand.”
“As much as I ever wish to be,”
“I have spent four days in the same house with him, and I think him very disagreeable.”
“Upon my word I say no more here than I might say in any house in the neighbourhood, except Netherfield. He is not at all liked in Hertfordshire. Everybody is disgusted with his pride. You will not find him more favourably spoken of by anyone.”
“I should take him, even on my slight acquaintance, to be an ill-tempered man.”
“I do not at all know; but I heard nothing of his going away when I was at Netherfield. I hope your plans in favour of the ——shire will not be affected by his being in the neighbourhood.”
“Indeed!”
“Good heavens!”
“but how could that be? How could his will be disregarded? Why did you not seek legal redress?”
“This is quite shocking! He deserves to be publicly disgraced.”
“But what,”
“can have been his motive? What can have induced him to behave so cruelly?”
“I had not thought Mr. Darcy so bad as this — though I have never liked him. I had not thought so very ill of him. I had supposed him to be despising his fellow-creatures in general, but did not suspect him of descending to such malicious revenge, such injustice, such inhumanity as this.”
“I do remember his boasting one day, at Netherfield, of the implacability of his resentments, of his having an unforgiving temper. His disposition must be dreadful.”
“To treat in such a manner the godson, the friend, the favourite of his father!”
“A young man, too, like you, whose very countenance may vouch for your being amiable”
“and one, too, who had probably been his own companion from childhood, connected together, as I think you said, in the closest manner!”
“How strange!”
“How abominable! I wonder that the very pride of this Mr. Darcy has not made him just to you! If from no better motive, that he should not have been too proud to be dishonest — for dishonesty I must call it.”
“Can such abominable pride as his have ever done him good?”
“What sort of girl is Miss Darcy?”
“I am astonished at his intimacy with Mr. Bingley! How can Mr. Bingley, who seems good humour itself, and is, I really believe, truly amiable, be in friendship with such a man? How can they suit each other? Do you know Mr. Bingley?”
“He is a sweet-tempered, amiable, charming man. He cannot know what Mr. Darcy is.”
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh,”
“has very lately given him a living. I hardly know how Mr. Collins was first introduced to her notice, but he certainly has not known her long.”
“No, indeed, I did not. I knew nothing at all of Lady Catherine's connections. I never heard of her existence till the day before yesterday.”
“Mr. Collins,”
“speaks highly both of Lady Catherine and her daughter; but from some particulars that he has related of her ladyship, I suspect his gratitude misleads him, and that in spite of her being his patroness, she is an arrogant, conceited woman.”
he had given a very rational account of it,
“They have both,”
“been deceived, I dare say, in some way or other, of which we can form no idea. Interested people have perhaps misrepresented each to the other. It is, in short, impossible for us to conjecture the causes or circumstances which may have alienated them, without actual blame on either side.”
“Very true, indeed; and now, my dear Jane, what have you got to say on behalf of the interested people who have probably been concerned in the business? Do clear them too, or we shall be obliged to think ill of somebody.”
“Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion. My dearest Lizzy, do but consider in what a disgraceful light it places Mr. Darcy, to be treating his father's favourite in such a manner, one, whom his father had promised to provide for. It is impossible. No man of common humanity, no man who had any value for his character, could be capable of it. Can his most intimate friends be so excessively deceived in him? Oh! no.”
“I can much more easily believe Mr. Bingley's being imposed on, than that Mr. Wickham should invent such a history of himself as he gave me last night; names, facts, everything mentioned without ceremony. If it be not so, let Mr. Darcy contradict it. Besides, there was truth in his looks.”
“It is difficult indeed — it is distressing. One does not know what to think.”