We Neither Of Us Perform To Strangers.

Thus Much Indeed He Was Obliged To Acknowledge - That He Had Been Constant Unconsciously, Nay Unintentionally; That He Had Meant To Forget Her, And Believed It To Be Done. He Had Imagined Himself Indifferent, When He Had Only Been Angry; And He Had Been Unjust To Her Merits, Because He Had Been A Sufferer From Them.

Where Shall We See A Better Daughter, Or A Kinder Sister, Or A Truer Friend?

Yet There It Was Not Love. It Was A Little Fever Of Admiration; But It Might, Probably Must, End In Love With Some

Nothing Is More Deceitful Than The Appearance Of Humility. It Is Often Only Carelessness Of Opinion, And Sometimes An Indirect Boast.

I Cannot Comprehend The Neglect Of A Family Library In Such Days As These." - Mr. Darcy