Some folk want their luck buttered.

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

Where we are would be Paradise to me, if you would only make it so.

Though a good deal is too strange to be believed, nothing is too strange to have happened.

It was terribly beautiful to Tess today, for since her eyes last fell upon it she had learnt that the serpent hisses where the sweet birds sing.

Somebody might have come along that way who would have asked him his trouble, and might have cheered him by saying that his notions were further advanced than those of his grammarian. But nobody did come, because nobody does; and under the crushing recognition of his gigantic error Jude continued to wish himself out of the world.

So each had a private little sun for her soul to bask in; some dream, some affection, some hobby, or at least some remote and distant hope.