Was going to do all the episodes of Emma one after another... then the internet went slow. I've lost momentum, but here's episode two: (click on the pictures for larger versions)
It was a sweet view—sweet to the eye and the mind. English verdure,
English culture, English comfort, seen under a sun bright, without being
oppressive.
A mind lively and at ease, can do with seeing nothing, and can see nothing that does not answer.
There are people, who the more you do for them, the less they will do for themselves.
It was a delightful visit—perfect, in being much too short.
There are secrets in all families.
Surprizes are foolish things. The pleasure is not enhanced, and the inconvenience is often considerable.
It is always incomprehensible to a man that a woman should ever
refuse an offer of marriage. A man always imagines a woman to be ready
for anybody who asks her.
The ladies here probably exchanged looks which meant, "Men never know
when things are dirty or not;" and the gentlemen perhaps thought each to
himself, "Women will have their little nonsense and needless cares."
Business, you know, may bring money, but friendship hardly ever does.
I always deserve the best treatment because I never put up with any other.
Oh! dear; I was so miserable! I am sure I must have been as white as my gown.
How can Emma imagine she has any thing to learn herself, while Harriet is presenting such a delightful inferiority?
There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort.
There was no getting at her real opinion. Wrapt up in a cloak of politeness, she seemed determined to hazard nothing.
The charm of an object to occupy the many vacancies of Harriet's mind was not to be talked away.
Young ladies are delicate plants. They should take care of their health and their complexion.
What right had he to come among us with affection
and faith engaged, and with manners so very disengaged? What right had
he to endeavour to please, as he certainly did—to distinguish any one
young woman with persevering attention, as he certainly did—while he
really belonged to another?—How could he tell what mischief he might be
doing?
How much I love every thing that is decided and open!
A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he
takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals.
