To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.

I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet: I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.

There could have never been two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.

We all love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing.

Obstinate, headstrong girl!

She was happy, she knew she was happy, and knew she ought to be happy.

She mediated, by turns, on broken promises and broken arches, phaetons and false hangings, Tilneys and trap-doors.