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An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.
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There is not the hundredth part of the wine consumed in this kingdom that there ought to be. Our foggy climate wants help.
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An egg boiled very soft is not unwholesome.
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Everybody has their taste in noises as well as in other matters.
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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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I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control.
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Well, my comfort is, I am sure Jane will die of a broken heart, and then he will be sorry for what he has done.
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it will, I believe, be everywhere found, that as the clergy are, or are not what they ought to be, so are the rest of the nation.
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Good-humoured, unaffected girls, will not do for a man who has been used to sensible women. They are two distinct orders of being.
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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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In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.
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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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Our scars make us know that our past was for real...
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Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.
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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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Let other pens dwell on guilt and misery.
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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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You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope...I have loved none but you.
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My sore throats are always worse than anyone's.
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You were disgusted with the women who were always speaking and looking, and thinking for your approbation alone. I roused, and interested you, because I was so unlike them.
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The Very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone.
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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...