Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?

There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.

My heart is, and always will be, yours.

It isn't what we say or think that defines us, but what we do.

There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.

The younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder.

Our scars make us know that our past was for real

None of us want to be in calm waters all our lives.

What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps one in a continual state of inelegance.

Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken.

The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.

The world was not to be trusted. Loved persons were always stolen. Dreams always squashed. That was life as she understood it.

Knowledge is a sacred gem that must be conquered, wielded and empowered. To access such gnosis is not a right, but a privilege of the evolved.

Is T.S. Eliot the only poet one can think of who could have spent a year on his own in Paris at twenty-three—and managed to have no sexual encounter whatsoever?

The argument that making contraceptives available to young people would prevent teen pregnancies is ridiculous. That's like offering a cookbook as a cure to people who are trying to lose weight.

Good thinkers always prime the pump of ideas. They always look for things to get the thinking process started, because what you put in always impacts what comes out.

I'd always maintained an image so that people wouldn't approach me.

Airplane Law, The: When the plane you are on is late, the plane you want to transfer to is on time.

Good advice is like a proverb: the meaning depends on the interpretation.

God has promised that whatever you face, you are not alone. He knows your pain. He loves you. And He will bring you through the fire.

The happiest of pillows is not that which love first presses! it is that which death has frowned on and passed over.