'I despise him too much!' 'Oh, you don't mean that, I am sure ?' replied her friend.

'Confess, Fanny; don't you like him now ?' Without returning any direct reply, Miss Squeers, all at once, fell into a paroxysm of spiteful tears, and exclaimed that she was a wretched, neglected, miserable castaway.
'I hate everybody,' said Miss Squeers, 'and I wish that everybody was dead--that I do.' 'Dear, dear,' said Miss Price, quite moved by this avowal of misanthropical sentiments.

'You are not serious, I am sure.' 'Yes, I am,' rejoined Miss Squeers, tying tight knots in her pocket-handkerchief and clenching her teeth.

'And I wish I was dead too.
There!' 'Oh! you'll think very differently in another five minutes,' said Matilda.

'How much better to take him into favour again, than to hurt yourself by going on in that way.