Emma

Emma:
I may have lost my heart, but not my self-control.

Mr. Knightley:
I rode through the rain! I'd - I'd ride through worse than that if I could just hear your voice telling me that I might, at least, have some chance to win you.

Emma:
Has an invitation arrived for a party at the Coles?

Mr. Woodhouse:
No, thank Heaven. The Coles are nice people, but we should have to go outside to get there.

Mr. Knightley:
Emma, you didn't ask me to contribute a riddle.

Emma:
Your entire personality is a riddle, Mr. Knightley. I thought you overqualified.

Miss Bates:
It left us speechless, quite speechless I tell you, and we have not stopped talking of it since.

Mr. Knightley:
You must be happy that she settled so well.

Emma:
Indeed! One matter of joy in this is that I made the match myself. People said Mr. Weston would never marry again, and what a triumph!

Mr. Knightley:
Triumph? You made a lucky guess!

Emma:
Have you never known the triumph of a lucky guess? Had I not promoted Mr. Weston's visits and given encouragement where encouragement was needed, we might not have had a wedding today.

Mr. Woodhouse:
Then please, my dear, encourage no one else. Marriage is so disrupting to one's social circle.

Emma:
Was he handsome?

Jane:
Many say he is.

Emma:
Was he agreeable?

Jane:
He was in no way disagreeable.

Emma:
Was he a man of information?

Jane:
All his statements seem correct.

Mr. Knightley:
Marry me. Marry me, my wonderful, darling friend.

Emma:
Mr. Knightley, if I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream.

Mrs. Elton:
I do not profess to be an expert in the field of fashion (though my friends say I have quite the eye) but I can tell you, there is a shocking lack of satin!

Emma Woodhouse:
One does not like to generalize about so many people all at once, Mr. Knightley, but you may be sure that men know nothing about their hearts, whether they be six-and-twenty, or six-and-eighty.

Emma:
The most incomprehensible thing in the world to a man is a woman who rejects his offer of marriage.

Mr. Knightley:
I do not comprehend it because it is madness.

Mr. Knightley:
I hope you are wrong.

Emma:
I could not be. I saw her answer.

Mr. Knightley:
Emma

Mr. Knightley:
... you wrote her answer, didn't you?

Emma:
If I did, I would have done no wrong. He is not Harriet's equal.

Mr. Knightley:
I agree he is not her equal.

Emma:
Good.

Mr. Knightley:
He is her superior in sense and situation!

Emma Woodhouse:
Hmm, you dismiss her beauty and good nature, yet I would be very much mistaken, if your sex in general, does not think those claims the highest a woman could possess!

Emma Woodhouse:
Not one in a hundred men have "gentleman" so plainly written across them as Mr. Knightley!

Mr. Knightley:
Try not to kill my dogs.

Mr. Knightley:
Vanity working on a weak mind produces every kind of mischief.

Mr. Knightley:
Better be without sense than misapply it as you do.

Mr. Knightley:
Is it not a brother's job to find fault with his sister?

Emma Woodhouse:
The most beautiful thing in the world is a match well made.

Emma Woodhouse:
Thank you for being so thoughtful.

Rev. Elton:
No - thank you for thinking I am thoughtful.

Emma Woodhouse:
I must throw a party for her. Otherwise everyone will feel at once how much I dislike her.

Emma:
She'd never seen him before, and she called him Knightley!

Harriet:
I saw her at church. She seemed...

Emma:
Vulgar? Base? Conceited? Crass? She actually seemed pleased to discover that Mr. Knightley was a gentleman. I doubt he'll return the compliment and find *her* a lady. She proposed that we form a *musical club*. Is it possible that Mr. Elton met her while doing charitable work in a mental infirmary?

Emma:
There is only one thing to do with a person as impossible as she.

Harriet:
What?

Emma:
I must throw a party for her. Otherwise everyone will feel at once how much I dislike her.

Rev. Elton:
Were I not an old married man, I should gladly do the job. But my dancing days are over.

Emma Woodhouse:
Now I need not call you Mr. Knightley. I may call you *my* Mr. Knightley.

Emma Woodhouse:
How fascinating that any discordancy between us must always arise from *my* being wrong.

Mr. Knightley:
Not fascinating, but true.

Frank Churchill:
Is your horse just washing his feet or are the darker forces at work here?

Emma Woodhouse:
The latter, I'm afraid. Something's happened to the wheel and I cannot move.

Frank Churchill:
You'll just have to live here then. Buhbye.

Mr. Woodhouse:
Must the church be so drafty, Mr. Elton? It is difficult to surrender one's soul when one is worried about one's throat.

Mrs. Weston:
Perhaps some tea and cake would revive you, Mr. Woodhouse.

Mr. Woodhouse:
Cake! Surely you're not serving cake at your wedding, Miss Taylor! Far too rich, you put us all at peril! Where is Mr. Perry, the apothecary? I'm sure he will support me!

Mrs. Weston:
Ah, he is over there, Mr. Woodhouse, having some cake.

Mr. Woodhouse:
What?

Emma Woodhouse:
Did I mention we are having a new drain installed?

Mrs. Weston:
A suspicion has darted into my head that I cannot get rid of - Mr. Knightley and Jane Fairfax are a couple!

Emma:
Mrs. Weston, please do not take to matchmaking, you do it ill!

Emma:
I do not admire Mr. Knightley as I have so long thought.

Emma:
I love him. So dearly, so greatly!