All The Privilege I Claim For My

You May Only Call Me "mrs. Darcy"... When You Are Completely, And Perfectly, And Incandescently Happy.

Her Form, Though Not So Correct As Her Sister's, In Having The Advantage Of Height, Was More Striking; And Her Face Was So Lovely, That When In The Common Cant Of Praise She Was Called A Beautiful Girl, Truth Was Less Violently Outraged Than Usually Happens.

I Frequently Observe That One Pretty Face Would Be Followed By Five And Thirty Frights.

What Praise Is More Valuable Than The Praise Of An Intelligent Servant?

Sitting With Her On Sunday Evening - A Wet Sunday Evening - The Very Time Of All Others When If A Friend Is At Hand The Heart Must Be Opened, And Every Thing Told.