Does Nature supplement what man advanced? Or does she complete what he began?

Middlemarch, the magnificent book which with all its imperfections is one of the few English novels for grown-up people.

Never did anybody look so sad. Bitter and black, halfway down, in the darkness, in the shaft which ran from the sunlight to the depths, perhaps a tear formed; a tear fell; the waves swayed this way and that, received it, and were at rest. Never did anybody look so sad.

Who shall measure the hat and violence of the poet's heart when caught and tangled in a woman's body?

I feel all shadows of the universe multiplied deep inside my skin.

The Lighthouse was then a silvery, misty-looking tower with a yellow eye, that opened suddenly, and softly in the evening. Now— James looked at the Lighthouse. He could see the white-washed rocks; the tower, stark and straight; he could see that it was barred with black and white; he could see windows in it; he could even see washing spread on the rocks to dry. So that was the Lighthouse, was it? No, the other was also the Lighthouse. For nothing was simply one thing. The other Lighthouse was true too.

A masterpiece is something said once and for all, stated, finished, so that it's there complete in the mind, if only at the back.