“There is one Psyche for every Eros, an Elizabeth for every Darcy, and an Abby for every Travis.”

“Elizabeth: "Your balls, Mr. Darcy?"Darcy: "They belong to you, Miss Bennett.”

“Do you dance, Mr. Darcy?"Darcy: "Not if I can help it!"Sir William: "What a charming amusement for young people this is, Mr. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing, after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished societies."Mr. Darcy: "Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished societies of the world; every savage can dance.”

“But every one belongs to every one else”

“Abby must have been the one who found the safe house, because Townsend didn't like it."The building across the street is under construction," he snarled as soon as we'd carried our bags inside."The elevator has key card access, and I've hacked into the surveillance cameras from every system on the block," Abby argued. "We have a three-hundred-sixty-degree visual.""Excellent." Townsend dropped his bag. "Now the circle can see us from every angle.""Don't mind Agent Townsend, girls," Abby told us. "He's a glass-half-empty kind of spy.""Also known as the good kind," he countered. Abby huffed.”

“Mr. Darcy began to feel the danger of paying Elizabeth too much attention.”