— Uh, I'm married.
— That's allowed.
One thing for sure... We ain't had a boring marriage.
— 'Course a good husband's hard to find.
— You weren't hard to find. You were standin' in front of the whole town with a rope around your neck.
— I'll tell you what I'll do. I shall write to Mr. Bingley, informing him...that I have five daughters, and he is welcome to any of them. They're all silly and ignorant, like other girls. Well, Lizzy has more wit than the rest. But he may prefer a stupid wife, as others have done before him. There, will that do?
— No! I beg you will not write if you... You take delight in vexing me! You have no compassion on my poor nerves!
— You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. They've been my old friends for 20 years least.
— I can't believe that my life revolves around a man. On what planet did I allow that to happen?
— But you love him.
— Does that mean saying his name 50 times more a day than I say my own? Does it mean worrying about him and his needs before me and mine? Is it all about the other person? Is that love?
— No, that's marriage.
— I can't take it any more. You're not gonna give up your job because of him. You were there first. Now, what's the problem?
— He says he's in love with me. He wants to marry me.
— Bastard!