Many Of Her Thoughts Were Perfect Syllogisms;

To Dance With A Man Is To Concentrate A Twelvemonth's Regulation Fire Upon Him In The Fragment Of An Hour. To Pass To Courtship Without Acquaintance, To Pass To Marriage Without Courtship, Is A Skipping Of Terms Reserved For Those Alone Who Tread This Royal Road.

Her Affection For Him Was Now The Breath And Life Of Tess's Being; It Enveloped Her As A Photosphere, Irradiated Her Into Forgetfulness Of Her Past Sorrows, Keeping Back The Gloomy Spectres That Would Persist In Their Attempts To Touch Her—doubt, Fear, Moodiness, Care, Shame. She Knew That They Were Waiting Like Wolves Just Outside The Circumscribing Light, But She Had Long Spells Of Power To Keep Them In Hungry Subjection There.

But No One Came. Because No One Ever Does.

The Trees Have Inquisitive Eyes, Haven't They? -that Is, Seem As If They Had. And The River Says,-'why Do Ye Trouble Me With Your Looks?' And You Seem To See Numbers Of To-morrows Just All In A Line, The First Of Them The Biggest And Clearest, The Others Getting Smaller And Smaller As They Stand Further Away; But They All Seem Very Fierce And Cruel And As If They Said, 'i'm Coming! Beware Of Me! Beware Of Me!

We Learn That It Is Not The Rays Which Bodies Absorb, But Those Which They Reject, That Give Them The Colours They Are Known By; And In The Same Way People Are Specialized By Their Dislikes And Antagonisms, Whilst Their Goodwill Is Looked Upon As No Attribute At All.