Nobody can tell what I suffer! But it is always so. Those who do not complain are never pitied.

If you were to give me forty such men, I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness. No, no, let me shift for myself; and, perhaps, if I have very good luck, I may meet with another Mr. Collins in time.

I have no pretensions whatever to that kind of elegance which consists in tormenting a respectable man.

A woman of seven and twenty, said Marianne, after pausing a moment, can never hope to feel or inspire affection again.

A man does not recover from such devotion of the heart to such a woman! He ought not; he does not.

Laugh as much as you choose, but you will not laugh me out of my opinion.

It is the misfortune of poetry, to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoy it completely.