Her companion's discourse now sunk from its hitherto animated pitch, to nothing more than a short, decisive sentence of praise or condemnation on the face of every woman they met; and Catherine, after listening and agreeing as long as she could,with all the civility and deference of the youthful female mind, fearful of hazarding an opinion of its own in opposition to that of a self-assured man, especially where the beauty of her own sex is concerned, ventured at length to vary the subject.

No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy, would have supposed her born to be a heroine... But from fifteen to seventeen she was in training for a heroine.

Have a little compassion on my nerves. You tear them to pieces.

The sooner every party breaks up the better.

...I will not allow books to prove any thing." "But how shall we prove any thing?" "We never shall.

If this man had not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow.

It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us.