And at home by the fire, whenever you look up there I shall be— and whenever I look up, there will be you. -Gabriel Oak

There was now a distinct manifestation of morning in the air, and presently the bleared white visage of a sunless winter day emerged like a dead-born child.

If Galileo had said in verse that the world moved, the inquisition might have let him alone.

She was at that modulating point between indifference and love, at the stage called having a fancy for. It occurs once in the history of the most gigantic passions, and it is a period when they are in the hands of the weakest will.

You concede nothing to me and I have to concede everything to you.

...Nameless, unknown to me as you were, I couldn't forget your voice!' 'For how long?' 'O - ever so long. Days and days.' 'Days and days! Only days and days? O, the heart of a man! Days and days!' 'But, my dear madam, I had not known you more than a day or two. It was not a full-blown love - it was the merest bud - red, fresh, vivid, but small. It was a colossal passion in embryo. It never returned.

That it would always be summer and autumn, and you always courting me, and always thinking as much of me as you have done through the past summertime!