Marriage Is Indeed A Maneuvering

Are The Shades Of Pemberley To Be Thus Polluted?

If Things Are Going Untowardly One Month, They Are Sure To Mend The Next.

I Have Faults Enough, But They Are Not, I Hope, Of Understanding. My Temper I Dare Not Vouch For. It Is, I Believe, Too Little Yielding— Certainly Too Little For The Convenience Of The World. I Cannot Forget The Follies And Vices Of Other So Soon As I Ought, Nor Their Offenses Against Myself. My Feelings Are Not Puffed About With Every Attempt To Move Them. My Temper Would Perhaps Be Called Resentful. My Good Opinion Once Lost, Is Lost Forever.

The Post-office Is A Wonderful Establishment! The Regularity And Dispatch Of It! If One Thinks Of All That It Has To Do, And All That It Does So Well, It Is Really Astonishing!

I Have Not Wanted Syllables Where Actions Have Spoken So Plainly.