Mansfield Park

Edmund Bertram:
Surely you and I are beyond speaking when words are clearly not enough.

Fanny Price:
I have no talent for certainty.

Henry Crawford:
You dance like an angel, Miss Price.

Fanny Price:
One does not dance like an angel alone, Mr. Crawford.

Edmund Bertram:
Your entire person is entirely agreeable.

Fanny Price:
Yes, well, tonight I agree with everyone.

Fanny Price:
Beware of fainting fits. Beware of swoons.

Mary Crawford:
Gentlemen, please. Fanny Price is as fearful of praise and notice as other women are of neglect.

Fanny Price:
Well, Lady Bertram is always suffering near-fatal fatigue.

Fanny Price:
Usually from embroidering something of little use and no beauty... not to mention a healthy dose of opium every day.

Fanny Price:
The effect of education, I suppose.

Edmund Bertram:
She does not think evil, but she speaks it.

Fanny Price:
The effect of education, I suppose.

Mary Crawford:
Selfishness must always be forgiven, you know, because there is no hope for a cure.

Fanny Price:
A rake. I think.

Fanny Price:
They amuse more in literature than they do in life.

Fanny Price:
I often wonder that history should be so dull, for a great deal of it must be invention.

Mary Crawford:
What I'd like to know is... which gentleman among you am I to have the pleasure of making love to?

Henry Crawford:
What? A compliment? Heaven's rejoice, she complimented me.

Fanny Price:
I complimented your dancing, Mr. Crawford, keep your wig on.

Fanny Price:
Run mad as often as you choose but do not faint.

Fanny Price:
I hope... I hope you know how much... how much I shall... write to you...

Fanny Price:
A woman's poverty is even more contemptible than a man's.

Henry Crawford:
Arguable. But it need not be your lot. You can live out your days in comfort... with me.

Fanny Price:
I know.

Henry Crawford:
You do?

Fanny Price:
Yes.

Henry Crawford:
Is that a yes?

Fanny Price:
Yes.

Henry Crawford:
Is that the yes I have heard a hundred times in my heart but never from you? Oh, Fanny Price... You will learn to love me. Say it again.

Fanny Price:
Yes.

Mary Crawford:
This is 1806 for Heaven's sake!

Edmund Bertram:
Your keen adaptability to my brother's possible demise sends a chill through my heart. A chill. Happily planning parties with his money. You shush my father like a dog at your table, and then you attack Fanny for following her own, infallible guide concerning matters of the heart. All of this leads me to believe that the person I've been so apt to dwell on for many months has been a figure of my own imagination, not you Ms. Crawford. I do not know you, and I'm sorry to say, I have no wish to.

Edmund Bertram:
Fanny, I've loved you my whole life.

Fanny Price:
I know, Edmund.

Edmund Bertram:
No... I've loved you as a man loves a woman. As a hero loves a heroine. As I have never loved anyone.

Fanny Price:
Life seems nothing more than a quick succession of busy nothings.

Henry Crawford:
And what is your opinion, Miss Price?

Fanny Price:
I am sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Crawford, but I'm afraid I do not have a ready opinion.

Henry Crawford:
I suspect you are almost entirely composed of ready opinions not yet shared.

Edmund Bertram:
Oh, don't be an imbecile.

Fanny Price:
Oh, but imbecility in women is a great enhancement to their personal charms.

Edmund Bertram:
Fanny, you're being irrational.

Fanny Price:
Yet another adornment. I must be ravishing.

Fanny Price:
Maria was married on Saturday. In all important preparations of mind she was complete, being prepared for matrimony by a hatred of home, by the misery of disappointed affection, and contempt of the man she was to marry. The bride was elegantly dressed and the two bridesmaids were duly inferior. Her mother stood with salts, expecting to be agitated, and her aunt tried to cry. Marriage is indeed a maneuvering business.

Henry Crawford:
Fanny, you have created sensations which my heart has never known before.

Fanny Price:
Please.

Henry Crawford:
There is only one happiness in life: to love and be loved.

Fanny Price:
Mr. Crawford, do not speak nonsense.

Henry Crawford:
Nonsense?

Fanny Price:
You are such a fine speaker that I'm afraid you may actually end in convincing yourself.

Henry Crawford:
Fanny. You are killing me.

Fanny Price:
No man dies of love but on the stage.

Edmund Bertram:
There are as many forms of love as there are moments in time.

Mary Crawford:
We seemed very happy to see each other, and I think we actually were a little bit.

Edmund Bertram:
Fanny, you really must begin to harden yourself to the idea of... being worth looking at.

Fanny Price:
It could have turned out differently, I suppose. But it didn't.

Mary Crawford:
We all need an audience, wouldn't you say, Fanny?

Fanny Price:
To be truthful, I live in dread of audiences.

Sir Thomas Bertram:
Tom! You will do as I say!

Tom Bertram:
What, and do as you do? Even I have principles, sir.

Edmund Bertrum:
More dim-witted fiction to clutter the world.

Mary Crawford:
Come now, Mr. Bertram. Drama is to life what ships are to the sea. A means to traverse it, to plum its depths, breadth and beauty.

Edmund Bertrum:
I couldn’t agree more. Good drama, in which the greatest powers of the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough knowledge of human nature, the liveliest wit, are conveyed to the world through the best chosen language. This is essential.

This (holding the script) is trash!