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Do not consider me now as an elegant female intending to plague you, but as a rational creature speaking the truth from her heart.
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We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us.
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I want nothing but death.
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Indulge your imagination in every possible flight.
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For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors and laugh at them in our turn?
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If adventures will not befall a young lady in her own village, she must seek them abroad.
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Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery.
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I leave it to be settled, by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.
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Do not give way to useless alarm; though it is right to be prepared for the worst, there is no occasion to look on it as certain.
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A very short trial convinced her that a curricle was the prettiest equipage in the world
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I am now convinced that I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial towards him; they are even impartial towards her. I cannot find out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this.
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I can never be important to any one.' 'What is to prevent you?' 'Every thing — my situation — my foolishness and awkwardness.
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I cannot help hoping that many will feel themselves obliged to buy it. I shall not mind imagining it a disagreeable duty to them, so as they do it.
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You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.
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How quick come the reasons for approving what we like!
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Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.
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Yet there it was not love. It was a little fever of admiration; but it might, probably must, end in love with some...
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I never wish to offend, but I am so foolishly shy, that I often seem negligent, when I am only kept back by my natural awkwardness ... Shyness is only the effect of a sense of inferiority in some way or other. If I could persuade myself that my manners were perfectly easy and graceful, I should not be shy.
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I wrote without much effort; for I was rich, and the rich are always respectable, whatever be their style of writing.
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I read it [history] a little as a duty, but it tells me nothing that does not either vex or weary me. The quarrels of popes and kings, with wars or pestilences, in every page; the men all so good for nothing, and hardly any women at all — it is very tiresome: and yet I often think it odd that it should be so dull, for a great deal of it must be invention.
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“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with one's friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”
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No one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with.
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Goldsmith tells us, that when lovely woman stoops to folly, she has nothing to do but to die; and when she stoops to be disagreeable, it is equally to be recommended as a clearer of ill-fame.
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I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book! -- When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.