My tears do not flow so easily as they ought – they come almost like men’s tears, with sobs that seem to tear me in pieces, and that frighted every one about me.
I love Marian Halcombe.
|What Marian looks like in my head.
I should have broken down altogether and burst into a violent fit of crying, if my tears had not been all burnt up in the heat of my anger. As it was, I dashed into Mr. Fairlie’s room – called to him as harshly as possible, “Laura consents to the twenty-second” – and dashed out again without waiting for a word of answer. I banged the door after me, and I hope I shattered Mr. Fairlie’s nervous system for the rest of the day.
She is made of that which I would like more of.
As your friend, I am going to gell you, at once, in my own plain, blunt, downright language, that I have discovered your secret-
She is an amazon of the olden days filled with fainting couches and women’s fancy. She is deliciously self depreciating, stupendously self assured, and completely (you think I’m going to say compelling eh? do to the good ole’ alliteration?) loveable.
…Two young ladies have been staying here, but they went away yesterday, in despair; and no wonder. All through their visit…we produced no such convenience in the house as a flirtable, danceable, small talkable creature of the male sex; and the consequence was, we did nothing but quarrel, especially at dinner time. How can you expect four women to dine together alone every day and not quarrel? We are such fools, we can’t entertain each other at a table. You see I don’t think much of my own sex, Mr Hartwright – which will you have tea or coffee? – no woman does think much of her own sex, although few of them confess it as freely as I do. Dear me you look puzzled. Why?
I’m not sure I’ve ever been so totally in love with a character that it overshaddows my love of the book. This is a woman I could have dinner with every day, and never quarrel.
The Woman in White is such a fantastic read, and I’m only in the the first quarter of the story. Thankfully I have roughly 2100 pages left, so I won’t miss it any time soon. And really, the cast of characters are such fun. Mr. Fairlie is beautifully introduced, and pulls a smile out of me with every sigh and simper. Mr. Gilmore is so lovely once you get to actually hear from him, and Walter is a lad who reminds me of certain younger brothers. I am reading this book on my iPhone, corteousy of the iBook app. I will be buying it so I can underline it, and fold the pages down, and break the spine… all in love and admiration of course. I feel this treatment is nothing short of the highest form of respect for a book, to be loved.