To wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect.
Every body allows that the talent of writing agreeable letters is peculiarly female.
All the world is good and agreeable in your eyes.
I certainly must,' said she. 'This sensation of listlessness, weariness, stupidity, this disinclination to sit down and employ myself, this feeling of everything's being dull and insipid about the house! I must be in love; I should be the oddest creature in the world if I were not.
A woman of seven and twenty, said Marianne, after pausing a moment, can never hope to feel or inspire affection again.
She was convinced that she could have been happy with him, when it was no longer likely they should meet.