... There is that which is called an "awakening" in the church, and I know of no choicer ecstasy than to see Mrs. S[weetser] roll out in crape every morning, I suppose to intimidate antichrist; at least it would have the effect on me. It reminds me of Don Quixote demanding the surrender of the wind-mill, and of Sir Stephen Toplift, and of Sir Alexander co*kburn.
Spring is a happiness so beautiful, so unique, so unexpected, that I don't know what to do with my heart. I dare not take it, I dare not leave it - what do you advise?
Life is a spell so exquisite that everything conspires to break it.
"What do I think of Middlemarch?" What do I think of glory - except that in a few instances this "mortal has already put on immortality."
George Eliot is one. The mysteries of human nature surpa** "mysteries of redemption," for the infinite we only suppose, while we see the finite. ... I launch Vinnie on Wednesday; it will require the combined efforts of Maggie, Providence and myself, for whatever advances Vinnie makes in nature and art, she has not reduced departure to a science. ...
Your loving
Emily.