Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

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“than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast.”
“The indirect boast; for you are really proud of your defects in writing, because you consider them as proceeding from a rapidity of thought and carelessness of execution, which, if not estimable, you think at least highly interesting. The power of doing anything with quickness is always prized much by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance.
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 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 without conviction is no compliment to the understanding of either.”
“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.”
“Do not you feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an opportunity of dancing a reel?”
“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.”
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.
“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.”
“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.”
“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.”
“Yes, vanity is a weakness indeed. But pride — where there is a real superiority of mind, pride will be always under good regulation.”
“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.”
“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 yours,”
“is willfully to misunderstand them.”
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.
whatever she wished him to say should be said.
“Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?”
“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?”
“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,”
“How near it may be to mine , I cannot pretend to say .— You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”
if she and her sisters did not very often walk to Meryton.
“Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends — whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain.”
“Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of.”
“What think you of books?”
“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions.”
“The present always occupies you in such scenes — does it?”
“I am,”
“I hope not.”
“May I ask to what these questions tend?”
“And what is your success?”
“I can readily believe,”
“that reports may vary greatly with respect to me; and I could wish, Miss Bennet, that you were not to sketch my character at the present moment, as there is reason to fear that the performance would reflect no credit on either.”
“I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours,”
to inquire
after the health of her family.