Austen Said:

Patterns of Diction in Jane Austen's Major Novels

Search

Your search returned 214 results


however difficult it might be to express herself properly by letter, it was at least preferable to giving the information by word of mouth,
understanding you mean to take orders, he has great pleasure in offering you the living of Delaford now just vacant, and only wishes it were more valuable.
the probability of their not waiting for any thing more.
she had never seen him in such spirits before in her life.
no exertion for their good on Miss Dashwood's part, either present or future, would ever surprise her, for she believed her capable of doing any thing in the world for those she really valued.
she was not only ready to worship him as a saint, but was moreover truly anxious that he should be treated as one in all worldly concerns; anxious that his tithes should be raised to the utmost;
she thought Fanny might have borne with composure, an acquisition of wealth to her brother, by which neither she nor her child could be possibly impoverished.
Edward reading prayers in a white surplice, and publishing the banns of marriage between John Smith and Mary Brown,
conceive nothing more ridiculous.
all her friends seemed determined to send her to Delaford; — a place, in which, of all others, she would now least chuse to visit, or wish to reside;
from their summits Combe Magna might be seen.
perfectly the gentleman in his behaviour to all his visitors, and only occasionally rude to his wife and her mother; she found him very capable of being a pleasant companion, and only prevented from being so always, by too great an aptitude to fancy himself as much superior to people in general, as he must feel himself to be to Mrs. Jennings and Charlotte. For the rest of his character and habits, they were marked, as far as Elinor could perceive, with no traits at all unusual in his sex and time of life. He was nice in his eating, uncertain in his hours; fond of his child, though affecting to slight it; and idled away the mornings at billiards, which ought to have been devoted to business. She liked him, however, upon the whole, much better than she had expected, and in her heart was not sorry that she could like him no more; — not sorry to be driven by the observation of his Epicurism, his selfishness, and his conceit, to rest with complacency on the remembrance of Edward's generous temper, simple taste, and diffident feelings.
she was better,
he should see Marianne no more.
It was lower and quicker than ever!
The comfort of such a friend at that moment as Colonel Brandon — or such a companion for her mother, —
a companion whose judgment would guide, whose attendance must relieve, and whose friendship might soothe her! — as far as the shock of such a summons COULD be lessened to her, his presence, his manners, his assistance, would lessen it.
all relief might soon be in vain, that every thing had been delayed too long,
At ten o'clock,
or at least not much later her mother would be relieved from the dreadful suspense in which she must now be travelling towards them. The Colonel, too! — perhaps scarcely less an object of pity! — Oh! — how slow was the progress of time which yet kept them in ignorance!
he must be in liquor;
she has forgiven me already.
on the irreparable injury which too early an independence and its consequent habits of idleness, dissipation, and luxury, had made in the mind, the character, the happiness, of a man who, to every advantage of person and talents, united a disposition naturally open and honest, and a feeling, affectionate temper. The world had made him extravagant and vain — Extravagance and vanity had made him cold-hearted and selfish. Vanity, while seeking its own guilty triumph at the expense of another, had involved him in a real attachment, which extravagance, or at least its offspring, necessity, had required to be sacrificed. Each faulty propensity in leading him to evil, had led him likewise to punishment. The attachment, from which against honour, against feeling, against every better interest he had outwardly torn himself, now, when no longer allowable, governed every thought; and the connection, for the sake of which he had, with little scruple, left her sister to misery, was likely to prove a source of unhappiness to himself of a far more incurable nature.
she did; — that she forgave, pitied, wished him well — was even interested in his happiness —
Willoughby, he, whom only half an hour ago she had abhorred as the most worthless of men, Willoughby, in spite of all his faults, excited a degree of commiseration for the sufferings produced by them,
now separated for ever from her family, with a tenderness, a regret, rather in proportion,
— to his wishes than to his merits.
his influence over her mind was heightened by circumstances which ought not in reason to have weight; by that person of uncommon attraction, that open, affectionate, and lively manner which it was no merit to possess; and by that still ardent love for Marianne, which it was not even innocent to indulge.
it was so, long, long before she could feel his influence less.
"poor Willoughby,"
to HIS sufferings and his constancy far more than to his rival's, the reward of her sister was due,
whether her mother ever recollected Edward.
satisfied that none founded on an impartial consideration of their age, characters, or feelings, could be given; — but her mother must always be carried away by her imagination on any interesting subject,
was such, as,
must arise from something more than his affection for Marianne, or the consciousness of its being known to others;
an apparent composure of mind, which, in being the result as she trusted of serious reflection, must eventually lead her to contentment and cheerfulness.
That would not do. —
she should in future practice much.
the same eager fancy which had been leading her to the extreme of languid indolence and selfish repining, now at work in introducing excess into a scheme of such rational employment and virtuous self-control.
promise to Willoughby was yet unfulfilled, and feared she had that to communicate which might again unsettle the mind of Marianne, and ruin at least for a time this fair prospect of busy tranquillity.
I should give her compliments and Mr. Ferrars's, their best compliments and service, and how sorry they was they had not time to come on and see you, but they was in a great hurry to go forwards, for they was going further down for a little while, but howsever, when they come back, they'd make sure to come and see you."
how she had changed her name since she was in these parts.
"They come straight from town,
Edward would never come near them.
they were probably going down to Mr. Pratt's, near Plymouth.
she was very well;
in spite of herself, she had always admitted a hope, while Edward remained single, that something would occur to prevent his marrying Lucy; that some resolution of his own, some mediation of friends, or some more eligible opportunity of establishment for the lady, would arise to assist the happiness of all. But he was now married;
What had Edward felt on being within four miles from Barton, on seeing her mother's servant, on hearing Lucy's message!
They would soon,
be settled at Delaford.