Oh! write, write. Finish it at once. Let there be an end of this suspense. Fix, commit, condemn yourself.
Jane AustenI am now convinced that I have never been much in love; for had I really experienced that pure and elevating passion, I should at present detest his very name, and wish him all manner of evil. But my feelings are not only cordial towards him; they are even impartial towards her. I cannot find out that I hate her at all, or that I am in the least unwilling to think her a very good sort of girl. There can be no love in all this.
Jane Austenshe thought it was the misfortune of poetry, to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoyed it completely; and that the strong feelings which alone could estimate it truly, were the very feelings which ought to taste it but sparingly.
Jane AustenYou pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever.
Jane Austen