Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

Search

Your search returned 506 results


think differently in future;
would she have been not to be obliged to listen,
most unwillingly,
she did not wish to dance.
to take Mansfield in his way, whenever he could,
Their mother had no objection to the plan, and they were not in the least afraid of their father's disapprobation. There could be no harm in what had been done in so many respectable families, and by so many women of the first consideration; and it must be scrupulousness run mad that could see anything to censure in a plan like theirs, comprehending only brothers and sisters and intimate friends, and which would never be heard of beyond themselves.
admit that Maria's situation might require particular caution and delicacy—but that could not extend to her— she was at liberty; and Maria evidently considered her engagement as only raising her so much more above restraint, and leaving her less occasion than Julia to consult either father or mother. Edmund had little to hope, but he was still urging the subject when Henry Crawford entered the room, fresh from the Parsonage, calling out,
that might not be thought of: he was very sure his sister had no wish of acting but as she might be useful,
she would not allow herself to be considered in the present case.
the part of Amelia to be in every respect the property of Miss Crawford, if she would accept it.
it could be chosen in the present instance, that it could be proposed and accepted in a private theatre!
the situation of one, and the language of the other, so unfit to be expressed by any woman of modesty,
her cousins could be aware of what they were engaging in;
longed to have them roused as soon as possible by the remonstrance which Edmund would certainly make.
the necessity of his being very much dressed,
wishing she could work as well, and begging for the pattern, and supposing Fanny was now preparing for her appearance, as of course she would come out when her cousin was married,
if she had heard lately from her brother at sea,
she had quite a curiosity to see him, and imagined him a very fine young man,
Fanny to get his picture drawn before he went to sea again—
he found it absolutely impossible for him to undertake the part of Anhalt in addition to the Butler: he had been most anxiously trying to make it out to be feasible, but it would not do; he must give it up.
he must oppose such an enlargement of the plan as this: so contrary to all their first protestations;
going to him early on the morrow;
Miss Crawford had protected her only for the time; and if she were applied to again among themselves with all the authoritative urgency that Tom and Maria were capable of, and Edmund perhaps away, what should she do?
Everything was a friend, or bore her thoughts to a friend; and though there had been sometimes much of suffering to her; though her motives had often been misunderstood, her feelings disregarded, and her comprehension undervalued; though she had known the pains of tyranny, of ridicule, and neglect, yet almost every recurrence of either had led to something consolatory:
her aunt Bertram had spoken for her, or Miss Lee had been encouraging, or, what was yet more frequent or more dear, Edmund had been her champion and her friend: he had supported her cause or explained her meaning, he had told her not to cry, or had given her some proof of affection which made her tears delightful; and the whole was now so blended together, so harmonised by distance, that every former affliction had its charm.
Was she right in refusing what was so warmly asked, so strongly wished for— what might be so essential to a scheme on which some of those to whom she owed the greatest complaisance had set their hearts? Was it not ill-nature, selfishness, and a fear of exposing herself? And would Edmund's judgment, would his persuasion of Sir Thomas's disapprobation of the whole, be enough to justify her in a determined denial in spite of all the rest?
To be acting! After all his objections— objections so just and so public! After all that she had heard him say, and seen him look, and known him to be feeling. Could it be possible? Edmund so inconsistent! Was he not deceiving himself? Was he not wrong? Alas! it was all Miss Crawford's doing.
Things should take their course; she cared not how it ended. Her cousins might attack, but could hardly tease her. She was beyond their reach; and if at last obliged to yield— no matter —it was all misery now.
There was no longer anything to disturb them in their darling project,
jealous weakness to which they attributed the change,
Edmund might still look grave, and say he did not like the scheme in general, and must disapprove the play in particular; their point was gained: he was to act, and he was driven to it by the force of selfish inclinations only. Edmund had descended from that moral elevation which he had maintained before,
Anhalt's last scene with the Baron admitted a good deal of action and emphasis,
for it was Miss Crawford to whom she was obliged— it was Miss Crawford whose kind exertions were to excite her gratitude, and whose merit in making them was spoken of with a glow of admiration. She was safe; but peace and safety were unconnected here.
anything would have been preferable to this. Mrs. Grant was of consequence: her good-nature had honourable mention; her taste and her time were considered; her presence was wanted; she was sought for, and attended, and praised;
she received even the greatest,
she could never have been easy in joining a scheme which, considering only her uncle, she must condemn altogether.
neither he nor Julia had ever had a serious thought of each other,
Entirely against his judgment, a scene-painter arrived from town, and was at work, much to the increase of the expenses, and, what was worse, of the eclat of their proceedings; and his brother, instead of being really guided by him as to the privacy of the representation, was giving an invitation to every family who came in his way.
Everybody had a part either too long or too short; nobody would attend as they ought; nobody would remember on which side they were to come in; nobody but the complainer would observe any directions.
to ask her to rehearse with him, and help him to prepare for the evening, without knowing Miss Crawford to be in the house;
she could not, would not, dared not attempt it:
to believe their performance would, indeed, have such nature and feeling in it as must ensure their credit, and make it a very suffering exhibition to herself.
Whatever might be its effect, however, she must stand the brunt of it again that very day.
She could not come. Dr. Grant, professing an indisposition,
could not spare his wife.
Why was not Miss Crawford to be applied to as well? Or why had not she rather gone to her own room, as she had felt to be safest, instead of attending the rehearsal at all? She had known it would irritate and distress her; she had known it her duty to keep away. She was properly punished.
She would do her best.
it only as a vexatious interruption for the evening,
an earnest of the most serious determination,
by all means to pay his respects to Sir Thomas without delay,