“And though many women might enjoy the offering of such compliments, I did not want him to love me based on temporal things like a smile or voice or presence, things that could vanish through mood or an unexpected cloud. He must love me for the sake of love alone . . .”

“How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.' The list is long, Robert. Very long. And will grow longer still."He smiled. "Then let us begin with number one . . .”

“I held out my sisters' letters for him to read. Tears appeared in his eyes, and he kissed the letters and declared, "I love your sisters! It shall be the object of my life to justify the trust shown in these letters. May God bless them.”

“When I read a novel I am not here. I am transported to far-off places, my eyes unseeing of the words on the page, busy with a scene being played out in my mind's eye, with my ears engaged, hearing the voices carry from the pen to the present. What a lovely place to be-not here - Just Jane (Chapter Four Page 35)”

“I imagined an impulsive Robert taking Henrietta's hands and proclaiming, "I love your sister dearly. Madly. We are betrothed.”

“But his letters . . . I took them with me, let the "ounces" cry aloud. I tried to leave, and could not. They would not be left; it was not my fault. I will not be scolded.”

“Better for my heart to be untested then to experience a counterfeit to this love we have between us.”