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

I should infinitely prefer a book.

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

I am not fond of the idea of my shrubberies being always approachable.

You have qualities which I had not before supposed to exist in such a degree in any human creature. You have some touches of the angel in you.

I never could be so happy as you. Till I have your disposition, your goodness, I never can have your happiness.

Her mind was all disorder. The past, present, future, every thing was terrible.