Far away, long ago
Things I yearn to remember
And a song someone sings
once upon a December
Happy birthday, Karen Gillan!
MR. BINGLEY: Well, I think it’s amazing that you young ladies have the patience to be so accomplished.
MISS BINGLEY: What do you mean, Charles?
MR. BINGLEY: You all pain table, and play the piano, and embroider cushions! I have never heard of a lady but people say she is accomplished.
MR. DARCY: Indeed, the word is applied to liberally. I cannot boast of knowing more than half a dozen women in all my acquaintance who are truly accomplished.
LIZZIE: My goodness, you must comprehend a great deal in the idea.
MISS BINGLEY: Indeed. She must a have thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and all the modern languages to deserve the word. And something about her air, and manner of walking.
MR. DARCY: And, of course, she must improve her mind with extensive reading.
LIZZIE: I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women. I now wonder at your knowing any.
MR. DARCY: Are you so severe on your own sex?
LIZZIE: I never saw such a woman. Surely, she would be a fearsome thing to behold.
During afternoon tea,
there’s a shift in the air
A bone-trembling chill
that tells you she’s there
There are those that believe
that the whole town is cursed
but the house on the marsh
is, by far, the worst
What she wants is unknown,
but she always comes back
The specter of darkness,
the woman in black