She Had Nothing To Wish Otherwise, But

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.

I Am Not Born To Sit Still And Do Nothing. If I Lose The Game, It Shall Not Be From Not Striving For It.

May I Ask You What These Questions Tend?' 'merely To The Illustration Of Your Character,' Said She, Endeavouring To Shake Off Her Gravity. 'i Am Trying To Make It Out.' 'and What Is Your Success?' She Shook Her Head. 'i Do Not Get On At All. I Hear Such Different Accounts Of You As Puzzle Me Exceedingly.

We Certainly Do Not Forget You, So Soon As You Forget Us. It Is, Perhaps, Our Fate Rather Than Our Merit. We Cannot Help Ourselves.

The Person, Be It Gentleman Or Lady, Who Has Not Pleasure In A Good Novel, Must Be Intolerably Stupid.