To Elizabeth it appeared that, had her family made an agreement to expose themselves as much as they could during the evening, it would have been impossible for them to play their parts with more spirit or finer success.
- Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 18
Anne, coming quietly down from Louisa’s room, could not but hear what followed, for the parlour door was open.
“Then it is settled, Musgrove,” cried Captain Wentworth, “that you stay, and that I take care of your sister home. But as to the rest, as to the others, If one stays to assist Mrs. Harville, I think it need be only one. Mrs. Charles Musgrove will, of course, wish to get back to her children; but if Anne will stay, no one so proper, so capable as Anne.”
She paused a moment to recover from the emotion of hearing herself so spoken of. The other two warmly agreed to what he said, and she then appeared.
“You will stay, I am sure; you will stay and nurse her,” cried he, turning to her and speaking with a glow, and yet a gentleness, which seemed almost restoring the past. She coloured deeply, and he recollected himself and moved away.
- Persuasion, Chapter 12
Emma Woodhouse and Harriet Smith
Sylvestra Le Touzel as Fanny Price, 1983
There was no recovering Miss Taylor…
- Emma, Chapter 2
There was so much attachment to Captain Wentworth in all this, and such a bewitching charm in a degree of hospitality so uncommon, so unlike the usual style of give-and-take invitations, and dinners of formality and display, that Anne felt her spirits not likely to be benefited by an increasing acquaintance among his brother-officers.
"These would have been all my friends," was her thought; and she had to struggle against a great tendency to lowness.
- Persuasion, Chapter 11
Jane Eyre and Mr Rochester
To know you will be lonely is not the same as being lonely.
When Lucinda came down the Parramatta River in Sol Meyer’s boat, she imagined her life would be a lonely one, and she felt a strength through recognising it. And yet what she imagined was not loneliness, which is boggy and sour, but something else which was bright and hard. The difference between what she imagined and what she finally experienced is the difference between the blade of a knife - an object of chilly beauty - and the chronic pain of an open wound.
- Oscar and Lucinda, Chapter 63