Northanger Abbey

by Jane Austen

Indeed she had no taste for a garden; and if she gathered flowers at all, it was chiefly for the pleasure of mischief—at least so it was conjectured from her always preferring those which she was forbidden to take.

“The poor beetle, which we tread upon, “In corporal sufferance feels a pang as great “As when a giant dies.”

She was come to be happy, and she felt happy already.

As for admiration, it was always very welcome when it came, but she did not depend on it.

Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.

I have no notion of loving people by halves; it is not my nature. My attachments are always excessively strong.

and her spirits danced within her, as she danced in her chair all the way home.

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

and what she did not understand, she was almost as ready to admire, as what she did.