I have felt lately, more and more, that my present way of living is bad in every respect.

Beyond all things, I want you as my wife." "I feel, Mr.Boldwood, that though I respect you much, I do not feel--what would justify me to--in accepting your offer," she stammered.
This giving back of dignity for dignity seemed to open the sluices of feeling that Boldwood had as yet kept closed.
"My life is a burden without you," he exclaimed, in a low voice.

"I want you--I want you to let me say I love you again and again!" Bathsheba answered nothing, and the horse upon her arm seemed so impressed that instead of cropping the herbage she looked up.
"I think and hope you care enough for me to listen to what I have to tell!" Bathsheba's momentary impulse at hearing this was to ask why he thought that, till she remembered that, far from being a conceited assumption on Boldwood's part, it was but the natural conclusion of serious reflection based on deceptive premises of her own offering.
"I wish I could say courteous flatteries to you," the farmer continued in an easier tone, "and put my rugged feeling into a graceful shape: but I have neither power nor patience to learn such things.

I want you for my wife--so wildly that no other feeling can abide in me; but I should not have spoken out had I not been led to hope." "The valentine again! O that valentine!" she said to herself, but not a word to him.
"If you can love me say so, Miss Everdene.

If not--don't say no!" "Mr.Boldwood, it is painful to have to say I am surprised, so that I don't know how to answer you with propriety and respect--but am only just able to speak out my feeling--I mean my meaning; that I am afraid I can't marry you, much as I respect you.