Under every guilty secret there is hidden a brood of guilty wishes, whose unwholesome infecting life is cherished by the darkness.

Nothing is so good as it seems beforehand.

Breed is stronger than pasture.

But, bless us, things may be lovable that are not altogether handsome, I hope?

And Dorothea..she had no dreams of being praised above other women. Feeling that there was always something better which she might have done if she had only been better and known better, her full nature spent itself in deeds which left no great name on the earth, but the effect of her being on those around her was incalculable. For the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts and on all those Dorotheas who life faithfully their hidden lives and rest in unvisited tombs. Middlemarch

There are glances of hatred that stab, and raise no cry of murder.

Music sweeps by me as a messenger - Carrying a message that is not for me