When left alone with her, I ignored her and kept my eyes on my book, though I confess I turned over more pages than I read.

Elizabeth’s tears had wrung my heart: I longed to enfold her in my arms, to comfort her, but I knewit would be infamous indeed to take such advantage of her distress.

Elizabeth was not playing for the sake of exhibiting her virtuosity: she played for joy.

I hardened my heart against all the Bennets. - Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.