Jane Austen Quotes
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There are secrets in all families.
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I cannot speak well enough to be unintelligible.
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At my time of life opinions are tolerably fixed. It is not likely that I should now see or hear anything to change them.
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As a brother, a landlord, a master, she considered how many people's happiness were in his guardianship! -- How much of pleasure or pain it was in his power to bestow! -- How much of good or evil must be done by him!
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Sitting with her on Sunday evening - a wet Sunday evening - the very time of all others when if a friend is at hand the heart must be opened, and every thing told.
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Fine dancing, I believe like virtue, must be its own reward. Those who are standing by are usually thinking of something very different.
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I hate to hear you talk about all women as if they were fine ladies instead of rational creatures. None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.
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She was sensible and clever, but eager in everything; her sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation.
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It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;—it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.
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One cannot have too large a party. A large party secures its own amusement.
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A person who is knowingly bent on bad behavior, gets upset when better behavior is expected of them.
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Do you not want to know who has taken it?" cried his wife impatiently.
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Indeed, I am very sorry to be right in this instance. I would much rather have been merry than wise.
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Evil to some is always good to others...
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If this man had not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow.
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My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?
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Far be it from me, my dear sister, to depreciate such pleasures. They would doubtless be congenial with the generality of female minds. But I confess they would have no charms for me. I should infinitely prefer a book.
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What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant?
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Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch-hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Barontage; there he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; . . .
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[I]t is well to have as many holds upon happiness as possible.
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What are men to rocks and mountains?
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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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How can I dispose of myself with it?
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A report of a most alarming nature reached me two days ago.