Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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"with what transporting sensation have I formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted, as I walked, to see them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they, the season, the air altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard them. They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off, and driven as much as possible from the sight."
"It is not every one,"
"who has your passion for dead leaves."
"No; my feelings are not often shared, not often understood. But SOMETIMES they are."
"Now, Edward,"
"here is Barton valley. Look up to it, and be tranquil if you can. Look at those hills! Did you ever see their equals? To the left is Barton park, amongst those woods and plantations. You may see the end of the house. And there, beneath that farthest hill, which rises with such grandeur, is our cottage."
"It is a beautiful country,"
"but these bottoms must be dirty in winter."
"How can you think of dirt, with such objects before you?"
"Because,"
"among the rest of the objects before me, I see a very dirty lane."
"How strange!"
"Have you an agreeable neighbourhood here? Are the Middletons pleasant people?"
"No, not all,"
"we could not be more unfortunately situated."
"Marianne,"
"how can you say so? How can you be so unjust? They are a very respectable family, Mr. Ferrars; and towards us have behaved in the friendliest manner. Have you forgot, Marianne, how many pleasant days we have owed to them?"
"No,"
"nor how many painful moments."
"No. I hope my mother is now convinced that I have no more talents than inclination for a public life!"
"I shall not attempt it. I have no wish to be distinguished; and have every reason to hope I never shall. Thank Heaven! I cannot be forced into genius and eloquence."
"As moderate as those of the rest of the world, I believe. I wish as well as every body else to be perfectly happy; but, like every body else it must be in my own way. Greatness will not make me so."
"Strange that it would!"
"What have wealth or grandeur to do with happiness?"
"Grandeur has but little,"
"but wealth has much to do with it."
"Elinor, for shame!"
"money can only give happiness where there is nothing else to give it. Beyond a competence, it can afford no real satisfaction, as far as mere self is concerned."
"Perhaps,"
"we may come to the same point. YOUR competence and MY wealth are very much alike, I dare say; and without them, as the world goes now, we shall both agree that every kind of external comfort must be wanting. Your ideas are only more noble than mine. Come, what is your competence?"
"About eighteen hundred or two thousand a year; not more than THAT."
"TWO thousand a year! ONE is my wealth! I guessed how it would end."
"And yet two thousand a-year is a very moderate income,"
"A family cannot well be maintained on a smaller. I am sure I am not extravagant in my demands. A proper establishment of servants, a carriage, perhaps two, and hunters, cannot be supported on less."
"Hunters!"
"but why must you have hunters? Every body does not hunt."
"But most people do."
"Oh that they would!"
"We are all unanimous in that wish, I suppose,"
"in spite of the insufficiency of wealth."
"You must begin your improvements on this house,"
"and your difficulties will soon vanish."
"What magnificent orders would travel from this family to London,"
"in such an event! What a happy day for booksellers, music-sellers, and print-shops! You, Miss Dashwood, would give a general commission for every new print of merit to be sent you — and as for Marianne, I know her greatness of soul, there would not be music enough in London to content her. And books! — Thomson, Cowper, Scott — she would buy them all over and over again: she would buy up every copy, I believe, to prevent their falling into unworthy hands; and she would have every book that tells her how to admire an old twisted tree. Should not you, Marianne? Forgive me, if I am very saucy. But I was willing to shew you that I had not forgot our old disputes."
"I love to be reminded of the past, Edward — whether it be melancholy or gay, I love to recall it — and you will never offend me by talking of former times. You are very right in supposing how my money would be spent — some of it, at least — my loose cash would certainly be employed in improving my collection of music and books."
"And the bulk of your fortune would be laid out in annuities on the authors or their heirs."
"No, Edward, I should have something else to do with it."
"Perhaps, then, you would bestow it as a reward on that person who wrote the ablest defence of your favourite maxim,
that
no one can ever be in love more than once in their life —