“He loved her, and would love her; and defy her, and this miserable bodily pain.”

“He said to himself, that he hated Margaret, but a wild, sharp sensation of love cleft his dull, thunderous feeling like lightning, even as he shaped the words expressive of hatred. His greatest comfort was in hugging his torment; and in feeling, as he had indeed said to her, that though she might despise him, contemn him, treat him with her proud sovereign indifference, he did not change one whit. She could not make him change. He loved her, and would love her; and defy her, and this miserable bodily pain.”

“He loved her, and he would love her until the day he was too old for loving--but he could not have her. So he tasted the deep pain that is reserved only for the strong, just as he had tasted for a little while the deep happiness.”

“That he would love her no matter what she told him, and that he was the kind of man who loved her already and would love her forever.”

“She was in pain and I loved her, sort of loved her, I guess, so I kind of had to love her pain, too.”

“Would he love her or kill her?”