More especially is this so when the dungeon is of our own making, and we ourselves have shot its bolts.
There is a natural night that comes to all, and in its unwavering course swallows every mortal hope and fear, for ever and for ever.

To this we can more easily resign ourselves, for we recognise the universal lot and bow ourselves beneath the all-effacing hand.

The earth does not pine when the daylight passes from its peaks; it only sleeps.
But Jess had buried herself and she knew it.

There was no absolute need for her to have sacrificed her affection to her sister's: she had done so of her own will, and at times not unnaturally she was regretful.
Self-denial is a stern-faced angel.

If only we hold him fast and wrestle with him long enough he will speak us soft words of happy sound, just as, if we wait long enough in the darkness of the night, stars will come to share our loneliness.