Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

Search

Your search returned 3467 results



sex

character_type

marriage status

class status

age

occupation

mode of speech

speaker name

“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James's?”
“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”
“You have a house in town, I conclude?”
“I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself — for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.”
“My dear Miss Eliza, why are you not dancing?— Mr. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. — You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you.”
“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Eliza, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this gentleman dislikes the amusement in general, he can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour.”
“He is, indeed; but considering the inducement, my dear Miss Eliza, we cannot wonder at his complaisance — for who would object to such a partner?”
“I can guess the subject of your reverie.”
“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner — in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise — the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people!— What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”
he would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections.
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet!”
“I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite? — and pray, when am I to wish you joy?”
“Nay, if you are so serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you.”
“From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced.”
her admiration of Captain Carter,
her hope of seeing him in the course of the day, as he was going the next morning to London.
“I am astonished, my dear,”
“that you should be so ready to think your own children silly. If I wished to think slightingly of anybody's children, it should not be of my own, however.”
“If my children are silly, I must hope to be always sensible of it.”
“Yes — but as it happens, they are all of them very clever.”
“This is the only point, I flatter myself, on which we do not agree. I had hoped that our sentiments coincided in every particular, but I must so far differ from you as to think our two youngest daughters uncommonly foolish.”
“My dear Mr. Bennet, you must not expect such girls to have the sense of their father and mother. When they get to our age, I dare say they will not think about officers any more than we do. I remember the time when I liked a red coat myself very well — and, indeed, so I do still at my heart; and if a smart young colonel, with five or six thousand a year, should want one of my girls I shall not say nay to him; and I thought Colonel Forster looked very becoming the other night at Sir William's in his regimentals.”
“Mamma,”
“my aunt says that Colonel Forster and Captain Carter do not go so often to Miss Watson's as they did when they first came; she sees them now very often standing in Clarke's library.”
“Well, Jane, who is it from? What is it about? What does he say? Well, Jane, make haste and tell us; make haste, my love.”
“My dear Friend—
“If you are not so compassionate as to dine to-day with Louisa and me, we shall be in danger of hating each other for the rest of our lives, for a whole day's tȇte-à-tȇte between two women can never end without a quarrel. Come as soon as you can on the receipt of this. My brother and the gentlemen are to dine with the officers. — Yours ever,
“Caroline Bingley.”
“With the officers!”
“I wonder my aunt did not tell us of that.”
“Dining out,”
“that is very unlucky.”
“No, my dear, you had better go on horseback, because it seems likely to rain; and then you must stay all night.”
“Oh! but the gentlemen will have Mr. Bingley's chaise to go to Meryton, and the Hursts have no horses to theirs.”
“But, my dear, your father cannot spare the horses, I am sure. They are wanted in the farm, Mr. Bennet, are they not?”
“They are wanted in the farm much oftener than I can get them.”
“This was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!”
“Well, my dear,”
“if your daughter should have a dangerous fit of illness — if she should die, it would be a comfort to know that it was all in pursuit of Mr. Bingley, and under your orders.”
“Oh! I am not afraid of her dying. People do not die of little trifling colds. She will be taken good care of. As long as she stays there, it is all very well. I would go and see her if I could have the carriage.”
“How can you be so silly,”
“as to think of such a thing, in all this dirt! You will not be fit to be seen when you get there.”
“Is this a hint to me, Lizzy,”
“to send for the horses?”
“I admire the activity of your benevolence,”
“but every impulse of feeling should be guided by reason; and, in my opinion, exertion should always be in proportion to what is required.”
“We will go as far as Meryton with you,”
“If we make haste,”
“perhaps we may see something of Captain Carter before he goes.”
to remain at Netherfield for the present.