It was the instinctive attraction of one strong spirit toward another, the more, because that other was so differently embodied, endowed, and circumstanced.

She was a bed-ridden invalid, but she thrilled, like Achilles, at the first gleam and clangor of arms.

The only thing that Sophie feared, and from which she shrank, was Sin.

All else attracted her in proportion as it was powerful, stirring, or awe-inspiring.
Delicate, sensitive, and apparently meek and timid as was her nature, her heart was firm as a Roman general's, and her soul as large and sympathetic as an Apostle's.

Did the occasion offer, this pale minister's daughter was capable of great and immortal deeds.
"Which way do you like him best, Neelie ?" demanded she at length, removing the dilated gaze of her gray eyes from the round knot on the top of the bed-post; "when he's cold and bright, or when he's wild and fiery." "Oh! I don't like him at all!" exclaimed Cornelia, shuddering again.
Lest she should be suspected of a wilful misstatement, it may be as well to show how it might happen that she should deceive herself in the matter.