Emma Jane Fairfax Quotes

It is a most repulsive quality, indeed,’ said he. ‘Oftentimes very convenient, no doubt, but never pleasing. There is safety in reserve, but no attraction. One cannot love a reserved person.’ ‘Not till the reserve ceases towards oneself; and then the attraction may be the greater.

She regained the street--happy in this, that though much had been forced on her against her will, though she had in fact heard the whole substance of Jane Fairfax's letter, she had been able to escape the letter itself.

I can say nothing less, for I suppose Miss Woodhouse and Mr Frank Churchill are hearing every thing that passes. And (raising his voice still more) I do not see why Miss Fairfax should not be mentioned too . . . Now if your friends have any gratitude, they will say something pretty loud about you and me in return, but I cannot stay to hear it. -Mr. Knightely

Jane Fairfax is a very charming young woman—but not even Jane Fairfax is perfect. She has a fault. She has not the open temper which a man would wish for in a wife.” Emma

You speak too plain. She must understand you.’ ‘I hope she does. I would have her understand me. I am not in the least ashamed of my meaning.

We must consider what Miss. Fairfax quits, before we condemn her taste for what she goes to.

Why she did not like Jane Fairfax might be a difficult question to answer; Mr. Knightley had once told her it was because she saw in her the really accomplished young woman, which she wanted to be thought herself; and though the accusation had been eagerly refuted at the time, there were moments of self-examination in which her conscience could not quite acquit her.

He contrived that she should be seated by him; and was sufficiently employed in looking out the best baked apple for her, and trying to make her help or advise him in his work, till Jane Fairfax was quite ready to sit down to the pianoforte again. That she was not immediately ready, Emma did suspect to arise from the state of her nerves; she had not yet possessed the instrument long enough to touch it without emotion; she must reason herself into the power of performance; and Emma could not but pity such feelings, whatever their origin, and could not but resolve never to expose them to her neighbour again.

Não há encanto maior do que a ternura", pensou consigo mesma mais tarde. "Não há nada que se compare. O calor e a ternura de um coração, somados a um temperamento aberto e carinhoso, valem mais e são mais atraentes do que qualquer mente privilegiada. Tenho certeza disso. [...] Harriet é superior a mim pelo encanto e pela felicidade que irradia... minha querida Harriet! Eu não a trocaria pela mulher mais inteligente, mais ajuizada, e de maior senso de justiça deste mundo. Oh! A racionalidade de Jane Fairfax! Harriet vale cem vezes mais do que Jane. E para ser esposa, esposa de um homem justo, é algo muito valoroso. Não mencionarei nomes, mas feliz do homem que troca Emma por Harriet!

Great writers and my mom never used food as an object. Instead it was a medium, a catalyst to mend hearts, to break down barriers, to build relationships. Mom's cooking fed body and soul. She used to quip, "If the food is good, there's no need to talk about the weather." That was my mantra for years---food as meal and conversation, a total experience. I leaned my forehead against the glass and thought again about Emma and the arrowroot. Mom had highlighted it in my sophomore English class. "Jane Fairfax knew it was given with a selfish heart. Emma didn't care about Jane, she just wanted to appear benevolent." "That girl was stupid. She was poor and should've accepted the gift." The football team had hooted for their spokesman. "That girl's name was Jane Fairfax, and motivation always matters." Mom's glare seared them. I tried to remember the rest of the lesson, but couldn't. I think she assigned a paper, and the football team stopped chuckling. Another memory flashed before my eyes. It was from that same spring; Mom was baking a cake to take to a neighbor who'd had a knee replacement. "We don't have enough chocolate." I shut the cabinet door. "We're making an orange cake, not chocolate." "Chocolate is so much better." "Then we're lucky it's not for you. Mrs. Conner is sad and she hurts and it's spring. The orange cake will not only show we care, it'll bring sunshine and spring to her dinner tonight. She needs that." "It's just a cake." "It's never just a cake, Lizzy." I remembered the end of that lesson: I rolled my eyes----Mom loathed that----and received dish duty. But it turned out okay; the batter was excellent. I shoved the movie reel of scenes from my head. They didn't fit in my world. Food was the object. Arrowroot was arrowroot. Cake was cake. And if it was made with artisan dark chocolate and vanilla harvested by unicorns, all the better. People would crave it, order it, and pay for it. Food wasn't a metaphor---it was the commodity---and to couch it in other terms was fatuous. The one who prepared it best won.

Am I to believe that in your spirit of matchmaking, you have been settling that I should marry Miss Fairfax?' 'No!' Emma blurted out, before checking herself. 'Certainly not. You could not come and sit with us in this comfortable way if you were married.' 'Good, then.' he replied. 'She is too reserved. I like an open temper.' 'I quite agree'.

The eldest daughter of a family is always addressed as ‘Miss’ followed by her surname, e.g. Jane, the eldest Bennet girl, is ‘Miss Bennet’. The younger daughters are addressed as ‘Miss’ followed by their first name and surname, e.g. ‘Miss Elizabeth Bennet’. It is most impolite to address a lady or gentleman by their Christian name unless you are a close relative. In Emma, Miss Woodhouse is appalled by Mrs Elton’s overfamiliarity – she calls Mr Knightley ‘Knightley’ and Jane Fairfax by her full name, instead of ‘Miss Fairfax’: ‘Heavens! Let me not suppose that she dares go about Emma Woodhouse-ing me! But, upon my honour, there seem no limits to the licentiousness of that woman’s tongue!’ Frank Churchill, too, Jane’s secret fiancé, is upset when he hears ‘“Jane”… bandied between the Eltons, with all the vulgarity of needless repetition, and all the insolence of imaginary superiority.