Fanny Burney
Fanny Burney
Frances Burney, also known as Fanny Burney and after her marriage as Madame d'Arblay, was an English novelist, diarist and playwright. She was born in Lynn Regis, now King's Lynn, England, on 13 June 1752, to musical historian Dr. Charles Burneyand Esther Sleepe Burney. The third of six children, she was self-educated and began writing what she called her "scribblings" at the age of ten. In 1793, aged 41, she married a French exile, General Alexandre D'Arblay. Their only son,...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth13 June 1752
Can any thing, my good Sir, be more painful to a friendly mind than a necessity of communicating disagreeable intelligence? Indeed, it is sometimes difficult to determine, whether the relater or the receiver of evil tidings is most to be pitied.
I'd rather be done any thing to than laughed at, for, to my mind, it's one or other the disagreeablest thing in the world.
the mind naturally accommodates itself, even to the most ridiculous improprieties, if they occur frequently.
For my part, I confess I seldom listen to the players: one has so much to do, in looking about and finding out one's acquaintance, that, really, one has no time to mind the stage. One merely comes to meet one's friends, and show that one's alive.
A youthful mind is seldom totally free from ambition; to curb that, is the first step to contentment, since to diminish expectation is to increase enjoyment.
The mind is but too naturally prone to pleasure, but too easily yielded to dissipation
To save the mind from preying inwardly upon itself, it must be encouraged to some outward pursuit. There is no other way to elude apathy, or escape discontent; none other to guard the temper from that quarrel with itself, which ultimately ends in quarreling with all mankind.
. . . Imagination took the reins, and Reason, slow-paced, though sure-footed, was unequal to a race with so eccentric and flighty a companion.
In the bosom of her respectable family resided Camilla.
I cannot sleep - great joy is as restless as great sorrow.
Traveling is the ruin of all happiness! There's no looking at a building after seeing Italy.
There is no looking at a building here after seeing Italy.
it has been long and justly remarked, that folly has ever sought alliance with beauty.
To a heart formed for friendship and affection the charms of solitude are very short-lived.