The Confession of Fitzwilliam Darcy

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 knew it 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.

You should try smiling, yourself,' he had said with a sudden flash of spirit. 'Do you never tire of being displeased, Darcy? Upon my soul, I believe you take pleasure in finding fault and looking at the world with disdain.

I smiled, knowing that Elizabeth, even in the worst of her humours, was far better suited to my own disposition. She would scold me, quarrel with me, torment me, tease me and laugh at me as often as may be. I was the happiest man in the world.

Honest men cannot be expected to anticipate the actions of scoundrels.

You will never kiss really well, Mr Darcy,’ she said, ‘unless you practise more. You cannot expect to excel if you do not practise a great deal.

No lady bearing the name of Mrs Darcy will be censured, or slighted, or despised, madam. Certainly not at your instigation. You are not so high you can browbeat me.’ I

When I left, Lydia was prattling about new clothes for her wedding and expressing her own satisfaction that she, the youngest of the Bennet sisters, would be the first of them to be married. Wickham smiled indulgently and said pretty things to her. I, disgusted with them both, was persuaded they deserved each other.

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