Quotes - Page 183 | Just Great DataBase

She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of admiration to so great a man.

It was for the sake of what had been, rather than what was.

I think you are in very great danger of making him as much in love with you as ever.

You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love him, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more?

I am no longer a shuddering speck of existence, alone in the darkness; - I belong to them and they to me; we all share the same fear and the same life, we are nearer than lovers, in a simpler, a harder way; I could bury my face in them, in these voices, these words that have saved me and will stand by me.

I take no leave of you, Miss Bennet: I send no compliments to your mother. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.

How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.

It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.

Nay," cried Bingley, "this is too much, to remember at night all the foolish things that were said in the morning.

He's a man way out there in the blue, riding on a smile and a shoeshine. And when they start not smiling back--that's an earthquake. And then you get a couple of spots on your hat, and you're finished.

Does it take more guts to stand here the rest of my life ringing up a zero?

I get here, and I don't know what to do with myself. I've always made a point of not wasting my life, and every time I come back here I know that all I've done is to waste my life

See, Biff, everybody around me is so false that I’m constantly lowering my ideals . . .

Animals look from Napoleon to Pilkington, from man to pig back to man, they find that they are unable to tell the difference.

Let him submit to me! Only the god of death is so relentless, Death submits to no one—so mortals hate him most of all the gods. Let him bow down to me! I am the greater king, I am the elder-born, I claim—the greater man.

But listen to me first and swear an oath to use all your eloquence and strength to look after me and protect me.

It is entirely seemly for a young man killed in battle to lie mangled by the bronze spear. In his death all things appear fair.

Ah my friend, if you and I could escape this fray and live forever, never a trace of age, immortal, I would never fight on the front lines again or command you to the field where men win fame.

The sort of words a man says is the sort he hears in return.

And Lot’s wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human.