He made me love him without looking at me.

I recalled the voice I had heard; again I questioned whence it came, as vainly as before: it seemed in me not in the external world. I asked, was it a mere nervous impression a delusion? I could not conceive or believe: it was more like an inspiration.

He is not to them what he is to me.

You, Jane, I must have you for my own--entirely my own.

Who has words at the right moment?

...it strikes me with terror and anguish to feel I absolutely must be torn from you for ever. I see the necessity of departure; and it is like looking on the necessity of death.

I can but die... and I believe in God. Let me try and wait His will in silence.