Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels


Your search returned 669 results



marriage status

class status


mode of speech

speaker name

"It was not fit that you should then know how much I was the reverse!"
"Four months!" —
"So calm! — so cheerful! — how have you been supported?"
"By feeling that I was doing my duty. — My promise to Lucy, obliged me to be secret. I owed it to her, therefore, to avoid giving any hint of the truth; and I owed it to my family and friends, not to create in them a solicitude about me, which it could not be in my power to satisfy."
"I have very often wished to undeceive yourself and my mother,"
"and once or twice I have attempted it; — but without betraying my trust, I never could have convinced you."
"Four months! — and yet you loved him!" —
"Yes. But I did not love only him; — and while the comfort of others was dear to me, I was glad to spare them from knowing how much I felt. Now, I can think and speak of it with little emotion. I would not have you suffer on my account; for I assure you I no longer suffer materially myself. I have many things to support me. I am not conscious of having provoked the disappointment by any imprudence of my own, I have borne it as much as possible without spreading it farther. I acquit Edward of essential misconduct. I wish him very happy; and I am so sure of his always doing his duty, that though now he may harbour some regret, in the end he must become so. Lucy does not want sense, and that is the foundation on which every thing good may be built. — And after all, Marianne, after all that is bewitching in the idea of a single and constant attachment, and all that can be said of one's happiness depending entirely on any particular person, it is not meant — it is not fit — it is not possible that it should be so. — Edward will marry Lucy; he will marry a woman superior in person and understanding to half her sex; and time and habit will teach him to forget that he ever thought another superior to HER." —
"If such is your way of thinking,"
"if the loss of what is most valued is so easily to be made up by something else, your resolution, your self-command, are, perhaps, a little less to be wondered at. — They are brought more within my comprehension."
"I understand you. — You do not suppose that I have ever felt much. — For four months, Marianne, I have had all this hanging on my mind, without being at liberty to speak of it to a single creature; knowing that it would make you and my mother most unhappy whenever it were explained to you, yet unable to prepare you for it in the least. — It was told me, — it was in a manner forced on me by the very person herself, whose prior engagement ruined all my prospects; and told me, as I thought, with triumph. — This person's suspicions, therefore, I have had to oppose, by endeavouring to appear indifferent where I have been most deeply interested; — and it has not been only once; — I have had her hopes and exultation to listen to again and again. — I have known myself to be divided from Edward for ever, without hearing one circumstance that could make me less desire the connection. — Nothing has proved him unworthy; nor has anything declared him indifferent to me. — I have had to contend against the unkindness of his sister, and the insolence of his mother; and have suffered the punishment of an attachment, without enjoying its advantages. — And all this has been going on at a time, when, as you know too well, it has not been my only unhappiness. — If you can think me capable of ever feeling — surely you may suppose that I have suffered NOW. The composure of mind with which I have brought myself at present to consider the matter, the consolation that I have been willing to admit, have been the effect of constant and painful exertion; — they did not spring up of themselves; — they did not occur to relieve my spirits at first. — No, Marianne. — THEN, if I had not been bound to silence, perhaps nothing could have kept me entirely — not even what I owed to my dearest friends — from openly shewing that I was VERY unhappy." —
"Oh! Elinor,"
"you have made me hate myself for ever. — How barbarous have I been to you! — you, who have been my only comfort, who have borne with me in all my misery, who have seemed to be only suffering for me! — Is this my gratitude? — Is this the only return I can make you? — Because your merit cries out upon myself, I have been trying to do it away."
"Yes, ma'am." —
"Gracious God! can this be possible!"
"Not at all, I believe, with you."
"I cannot suppose it possible that she should."
"I never heard any thing of the kind hinted at before, I assure you,"
"I do not understand what you mean by interrupting them,"
"you were all in the same room together, were not you?"
"have you been repeating to me what you only learnt yourself by listening at the door? I am sorry I did not know it before; for I certainly would not have suffered you to give me particulars of a conversation which you ought not to have known yourself. How could you behave so unfairly by your sister?"
"it is a comfort to be prepared against the worst. You have got your answer ready."
"Cleveland!" —
"No, I cannot go to Cleveland." —
"You forget,"
"that its situation is not...that it is not in the neighbourhood of..."
"But it is in Somersetshire. — I cannot go into Somersetshire. — There, where I looked forward to going...No, Elinor, you cannot expect me to go there."
"I shall always think myself very much obliged to you."
"The smallness of the house,"
"I cannot imagine any inconvenience to them, for it will be in proportion to their family and income."
"Thank you, ma'am,"
"It is a matter of great joy to me; and I feel the goodness of Colonel Brandon most sensibly. There are not many men who would act as he has done. Few people who have so compassionate a heart! I never was more astonished in my life."
"You judged from your knowledge of the Colonel's general benevolence; but at least you could not foresee that the opportunity would so very soon occur."
"You mean to go to Delaford after them I suppose,"
"He spoke of its being out of repair."
"Certainly, ma'am, I shall tell Marianne of it; but I shall not mention it at present to any body else."
"No, ma'am, not even Lucy if you please. One day's delay will not be very material; and till I have written to Mr. Ferrars, I think it ought not to be mentioned to any body else. I shall do THAT directly. It is of importance that no time should be lost with him, for he will of course have much to do relative to his ordination."
"Colonel Brandon is so delicate a man, that he rather wished any one to announce his intentions to Mr. Ferrars than himself."
"Certainly, ma'am,"
"You would not have gone, however,"
"without receiving our good wishes, even if we had not been able to give them in person. Mrs. Jennings was quite right in what she said. I have something of consequence to inform you of, which I was on the point of communicating by paper. I am charged with a most agreeable office
Colonel Brandon,
who was here only ten minutes ago,
has desired me to say, that
Allow me to congratulate you on having so respectable and well-judging a friend, and to join in his wish that the living — it is about two hundred a-year — were much more considerable, and such as might better enable you to — as might be more than a temporary accommodation to yourself — such, in short, as might establish all your views of happiness."
"Colonel Brandon means it as a testimony of his concern for what has lately passed — for the cruel situation in which the unjustifiable conduct of your family has placed you — a concern which I am sure Marianne, myself, and all your friends, must share; and likewise as a proof of his high esteem for your general character, and his particular approbation of your behaviour on the present occasion."
"The unkindness of your own relations has made you astonished to find friendship any where."