Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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“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.”
“I beg your pardon; one knows exactly what to think.”
Mr. Bingley, if he had been imposed on, would have much to suffer when the affair became public.
she had no disinclination for it.
“While I can have my mornings to myself,” said she, “it is enough — I think it is no sacrifice to join occasionally in evening engagements. Society has claims on us all; and I profess myself one of those who consider intervals of recreation and amusement as desirable for everybody.”
whether he intended to accept Mr. Bingley's invitation, and if he did, whether he would think it proper to join in the evening's amusement;
to have Mr. Collins instead!
she was selected from among her sisters as worthy of being the mistress of Hunsford Parsonage, and of assisting to form a quadrille table at Rosings, in the absence of more eligible visitors.
Mr. Collins might never make the offer, and till he did, it was useless to quarrel about him.
his being purposely omitted for Mr. Darcy's pleasure in the Bingleys' invitation to the officers;
“Heaven forbid! That would be the greatest misfortune of all!— To find a man agreeable whom one is determined to hate! Do not wish me such an evil.”
their silence was to last through the two dances,
it would be the greater punishment to her partner to oblige him to talk,
“It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”
“Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent.”
“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together; and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”