W.H. Mallock's A Human Document (1892).
The quotes below are from the shorter New York version.
- "how deep in the mud must a woman walk before a man considers her progress interesting?" p. iv
- "you excite expectations, though you have not yet satisfied them[.]" p. 9
- "What is love like? I cannot even remember. You look as if you didn't believe me; but I am not talking for effect. I have known the experience--the beginning, the middle, and the end of it, till I am as familiar with it, in one way, as I am with the journey to Brighton; but the impulse that made me undertake the journey is gone. I cannot even recall it." p. 10
- "First love is really like a first attempt on the fiddle. The magic and the music only come with experience. To love successfully you must often have loved in vain." p. 11
- I believe I am fit to marry, for this precise reason that I can no longer love. For by love, as I use the word now, and as Lady Ashford used it, what do we mean? We mean that despotic emotion which claims to extinguish, and which does extinguish while it lasts, all other emotions as the sun extinguishes a candle; which claims not to complete and crown the other blessings of life, but to supersede them. p. 24
- ... a breath of that faint unfamiliar smell which whispers to a stranger's nerves the news that he is in a strange city. p. 36
- "These people--I tell you you'll be able to see it for yourself--can be charming to those whom they acknowledge their equals, and also to those who acknowledge themselves their inferiors; but to others, their insolence is something that an Englishwoman could hardly believe in." p. 57
- "You don't understand women. Civility with a fine lady is often the grammar of impertinence." p. 61
- "But how much more important in mere point of attraction is a certain kind of bearing than beauty of face or form!" p. 65
- "Do you see the petals?" she said. "They palpitate like the wings of butterflies." p. 83
- Her mood seemed to change like an English sky in April. At one moment she would be hidden behind some clouds of shyness; the next she would brighten, and show, with a happy unconscious confidence, herself and her slightest thoughts as the sky shows its blueness. p. 84
- "I was like a book which he valued for the rarity of its binding, but which he neither could nor cared to read." p. 130
- "I only speak for myself. I want, personally, not to act, but to be." p. 143
- "I think it is Carlyle, or some German quoted by Carlyle, who says that a thought gains infinitely in value to the thinker, when he finds that another shares it." pp. 156-157
- "Bobby--I mean Bobby my brother--described once to me the pleasure he felt in China, at hearing in some strange place, the sound of his own language." p. 157
- ...but some candles were burning, whose flames were like pale daffodils. p. 171
- "Perhaps I should teach you what a strange thing a woman's heart is. Its motto, I think, ought to be, 'I am nothing if logical.'" p. 177
- What may I write that shall hint of my love for you?
___My pen trembles idly, and doubts as it dips.
Teach me some name that is tender enough for you:
___Or else hold me silent, my love, with your lips. p. 179
- "Many hieroglyphics are very graceful in form, and so long as they are nothing but forms for us we, no doubt, think them pretty; but as soon as we learn to read them, we forget the prettiness of the letters, in thinking of the sense of the sentences." p. 182
- "Stop, stop," she said. "No, go on; go on.["] p. 205
- Of all the troubles of life, the strained suspense of waiting, with every nerve stretched of doubt, of hope, and of hearing, in proportion to its real importance is the hardest for some temperaments to bear. pp. 223-224
- But thoughts, however, scattered, are things which, in many cases, need only a severe enough summons to gather them together in an instant. Some men often wait idly for their thoughts to inspire their will; whereas what they really need is, that their will should compel their thoughts. p. 230
- Everything presented the aggressive and painful neatness of a man who can think himself fashionable only when his clothes are new. p. 244
"Trouble is love," he replied, "what the night is to a star." p. 251"Trouble is to love," he replied, "what the night is to a star." p. 251 Thank you, Y, for the correction.
- Everything on which their eyes rested was steeped in a pathetic beauty, which did not come from the sunset, though that indeed was beautiful, but which comes at any hour to things seen for the last time. p.