…but Then I Am Unlike Other People

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.

Her Mind Was All Disorder. The Past, Present, Future, Every Thing Was Terrible.

His Own Enjoyment, Or His Own Ease, Was, In Every Particular, His Ruling Principle.

My Dear Mr. Bennet," Said His Lady To Him One Day, "have You Heard That Netherfield Park Is Let At Last?

But Your Mind Is Warped By An Innate Principle Of General Integrity, And, Therefore, Not Accessible To The Cool Reasonings Of Family Partiality, Or A Desire Of Revenge.