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One can never have too large a party.
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What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.
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A Mr. (save, perhaps, some half dozen in the nation,) always needs a note of explanation.
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Dress is at all times a frivolous distinction, and excessive solicitude about it often destroys its own aim.
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A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals.
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Where shall we see a better daughter, or a kinder sister, or a truer friend?
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In a letter from Bath to her sister, Cassandra, one senses her frustration at her sheltered existence, Tuesday, 12 May 1801. Another stupid party . . . with six people to look on, and talk nonsense to each other.
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I am not at all in a humour for writing; I must write on till I am.
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Run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint!
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He then departed, to make himself still more interesting, in the midst of a heavy rain.
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There is nothing like employment, active indispensable employment, for relieving sorrow. Employment, even melancholy, may dispel melancholy.
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But your mind is warped by an innate principle of general integrity, and, therefore, not accessible to the cool reasonings of family partiality, or a desire of revenge.
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From all that I can collect by your manner of talking, you must be two of the silliest girls in the country. I have suspected it some time, but I am now convinced.
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What have wealth or grandeur to do with happiness?" Grandeur has but little," said Elinor, "but wealth has much to do with it." Elinor, for shame!" Said Marianne. "Money can only give happiness where there is nothing else to give it.
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And to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.
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Whom are you going to dance with?' asked Mr. Knightley. She hesitated a moment and then replied, 'With you, if you will ask me.' Will you?' said he, offering his hand. Indeed I will. You have shown that you can dance, and you know we are not really so much brother and sister as to make it at all improper.' Brother and sister! no, indeed.
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Walter Scott has no business to write novels, especially good ones. It is not fair. He has fame and profit enough as a poet, and should not be taking the bread out of other people's mouths. I do not like him, and do not mean to like Waverley if I can help it, but fear I must.
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I can always live by my pen.
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She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time; but alas! Alas! She must confess to herself that she was not wise yet.
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Men were put into the world to teach women the law of compromise.
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My good opinion once lost is lost forever.
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I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.
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I . . . am always half afraid of finding a clever novel too clever--& of finding my own story & my own people all forestalled.
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Lady Sondes' match surprises, but does not offend me; had her first marriage been of affection, or had their been a grown-updaughter, I should not have forgiven her; but I consider everybody as having a right to marry once in their lives for love, if they can.