It’s her general air of being some one in particular that strikes me. Who is this rare creature, and what is she? Where did you find her, and how did you make her acquaintance?
Now that he was alone with her all the passion he had never stifled surged into his senses; it hummed in his eyes and made things swim round him.
But the sense that it was his last chance, that he loved her and had lost her, that she would think him a fool whatever he should say, suddenly gave him a lash and added a deep vibration to his low voice.
He saw her try, for a time, to appear to consider it; but he saw her also not consider it.
When I tell you I love you it’s simply what I came for. I thought it was for something else; but it was for that. I shouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe I should never see you again. It’s the last time – let me pluck a single flower! I’ve no right to say that, I know; and you’ve no right to listen. But you don’t listen; you never listen, you’re always thinking of something else.
You look upset – you’ve certainly been tormented. You’re not well.
He had never supposed she hadn’t wings and the need of beautiful free movements.
Yes, you’ve something to hide. It’s none of my business – very true. But I love you,” said Caspar Goodwood.
That’s the least part of it – after it nothing will matter.
You see, people forget you.
I love you. It’s because I love you that I’m here.
Well, if you love me intensely let me as intensely alone.
I love you as I’ve never loved you.
She had not yet divested herself of a young faith that each new acquaintance would exert some momentous influence on her life.
Ah yes, there had been intention, there had been intention, Isabel said to herself; and she seemed to wake from a long pernicious dream.
Don’t fail me. It would kill me.
She moved quickly indeed, and with reason, for a strange truth was filtering into her soul.
There was something deep within him that he had absolutely shown to no one – to the companion of these walks in particular not a bit more than he could help; but he was none the less haunted, under its shadow, with a dire apprehension of its publicity.
We must feel everything, everything we can. We are here for that.
The great thing is to love something.