I have not the pleasure of understanding you.

Faultless in spite of all her faults.

Fine dancing, I believe like virtue, must be its own reward. Those who are standing by are usually thinking of something very different.

Fanny! You are killing me!" "No man dies of love but on the stage, Mr. Crawford.

Oh! I am delighted with the book! I should like to spend my whole life in reading it.

Mrs. Jennings was a widow, with an ample jointure. She had only two daughters, both of whom she had lived to see respectably married, and she had now therefore nothing to do but to marry all the rest of the world.

Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves." "You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these last twenty years at least.