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
When young people are too rigidly sequestered from [the world], their lively and romantic imaginations paint it to them as a paradise of which they have been beguiled; but when they are shown it properly, and in due time, they see it such as it really is, equally shared by pain and pleasure, hope and disappointment.
We continually say things to support an opinion, which we have given, that in reality we don't above half mean.
How truly does this journal contain my real and undisguised thoughts--I always write it according to the humour I am in, and if astranger was to think it worth reading, how capricious--insolent & whimsical I must appear!--one moment flighty and half mad,--the next sad and melancholy. No matter! Its truth and simplicity are its sole recommendations.
. . . 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.
Concealment is the foe of tranquility.
... it's vastly more irksome to give up one's own way, than to hear a few impertinent remarks.
You must not sneeze. If you have a vehement cold you must take no notice of it; if your nose membranes feel a great irritation you must hold your breath; if a sneeze still insists upon making its way you must oppose it keeping your teeth grinding together; if the violence of the pulse breaks some blood-vessel you must break the blood-vessel -- but not sneeze.
... there's nothing but quarreling with the women; it's my belief they like it better than victuals and drink.