John Thorpe had some very funny lines. I don’t think he could skulk (slink) if he tried—too loud, too vulgar to fade into the shadows:

John himself was no skulker in joy. (Ch. 15)

It is not my way to bother my brains with what does not concern me. (Ch. 15)

Poor Catherine made me laugh even when she felt terrible:

Catherine had no leisure for speech, being at once blushing, tying her gown, and forming wise resolutions with the most violent dispatch. (Ch. 21)

She felt humbled to the dust. (Ch. 22)

General Tilney made me think of Mr. Collins, however I doubt the general had to write this out in advance:

Mr. Allen’s house, he was sure, must be exactly of the true size for rational happiness. (Ch. 21)

I suppose General Tilney has only an irrational happiness in the size of the abbey. (;D)