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.

But to appear happy when I am so miserable — Oh! who can require it?

She knew that what Marianne and her mother conjectured one moment, they believed the next: that with them, to wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.

How little of permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue.

They walked on, without knowing in what direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said, for attention to any other objects.

Five is the very awkwardest of all posible numbers to sit down to table.

I should infinitely prefer a book.