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509 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1881
"Millions of presumptuous girls, intelligent or not intelligent, daily affront their destiny, and what is it open to their destiny to be, at the most, that we should make an ado about it? The novel is of its very nature an ado, an ado about something, and the larger the form it takes the greater of course the ado. Therefore, consciously, that was what one was in for—for positively organising an ado about Isabel Archer."
"‘Adopted me?� The girl stared, and her blush came back to her, together with a momentary look of pain...
‘Oh no; she has not adopted me. I’m not a candidate for adoption.�
‘I beg a thousand pardons,� Ralph murmured. ‘I meant...
‘You meant she has taken me up. Yes; she likes to take people up... but,� she added with a certain visible eagerness of desire to be explicit, ‘I’m very fond of my liberty.�"
"Her imagination was by habit ridiculously active; when the door was not open it jumped out of the window. She was not accustomed indeed to keep it behind bolts; and at important moments, when she would have been thankful to make use of her judgement alone, she paid the penalty of having given undue encouragement to the faculty of seeing without judging."
"Her uncle’s house seemed a picture made real; no refinement of the agreeable was lost upon Isabel; the rich perfection of Gardencourt at once revealed a world and gratified a need. The large, low rooms, the deep greenness outside, that seemed always peeping in, the sense of well-ordered privacy in the centre of a ‘property’�...much to the taste of our young lady, whose taste played a considerable part in her emotions"
"She could live it over again, the incredulous terror with which she had taken the measure of her dwelling. Between those four walls she had lived ever since; they were to surround her for the rest of her life. It was the house of darkness, the house of dumbness, the house of suffocation. Osmond’s beautiful mind gave it neither light nor air; Osmond’s beautiful mind indeed seemed to peep down from a small high window and mock at her."
"She had long before this taken old Rome into her confidence, for in a world of ruins the ruin of her happiness seemed a less unnatural catastrophe. She rested her weariness upon things that had crumbled for centuries and yet still were upright; she dropped her secret sadness into the silence of lonely places, so that as she sat in a sun-warmed angle on a winter’s day, she could smile at it and think of its smallness."
"All purpose, all intention, was suspended; all desire too save the single desire to reach her much-embracing refuge. Gardencourt had been her starting-point, and to those muffled chambers it was at least a temporary solution to return. She had gone forth in her strength; she would come back in her weakness, and if the place had been a rest to her before, it would be a sanctuary now."
"‘I’m not bent on a life of misery,� said Isabel. ‘I’ve always been intensely determined to be happy, and I’ve often believed I should be. I’ve told people that. But it comes over me every now and then that I can never be happy in any extraordinary way; not by turning away, by separating myself.�
‘By separating yourself from what?�
‘From life. From the usual chances and dangers, from what most people know and suffer.�"
"There’s one remarkable clause in my husband’s will,� Mrs Touchett added. ‘He has left my niece a fortune.�
‘A fortune!� Madame Merle softly repeated.
‘Isabel steps into something like seventy thousand pounds.�
Madame Merle’s hands were clasped in her lap; at this she raised them, still clasped, and held them a moment against her bosom while her eyes, a little dilated... ‘Ah,� she cried, ‘the clever creature!�"
"‘I try to care more about the world than about myself––but I always come back to myself. It’s because I’m afraid.� She stopped; her voice had trembled a little. ‘Yes, I’m afraid; I can’t tell you. A large fortune means freedom, and I’m afraid of that. It’s such a fine thing, and one should make such a good use of it. If one shouldn’t one would be ashamed... I’m not sure it’s not a greater happiness to be powerless.�"
"It was as if he had had the evil eye; as if his presence were a blight and his favour a misfortune. Was the fault in himself, or only in the deep mistrust she had conceived for him? This mistrust was now the clearest result of their short married life; a gulf had opened between them over which they looked at each other with eyes that were on either side a declaration of the deception suffered."
"‘Watching her?�
‘Trying to make out if she's happy.�
‘That's easy to make out,� said Ralph. ‘She’s the most visibly happy woman I know.�
‘Exactly so; I’m satisfied,� Goodwood answered dryly. For all his dryness, however, he had more to say. ‘I’ve been watching her. She pretends to be happy; that was what she undertook to be; and I thought I should like to see for myself what it amounts to. I’ve seen,� he continued with a harsh ring in his voice, ‘and I don’t want to see any more. I’m now quite ready to go.�"
"...‘What has he ever done?� he added abruptly.
‘That I should marry him? Nothing at all,� Isabel replied while her patience helped itself by turning a little to hardness. ‘If he had done great things would you forgive me any better? Give me up, Mr Goodwood; I’m marrying a perfect nonentity. Don’t try to take an interest in him. You can’t.�"
"‘I think I’ve hardly got over my surprise,� he went on at last. ‘You were the last person I expected to see caught.�
‘I don’t know why you call it caught.�
‘Because you’re going to be put into a cage.�
‘If I like my cage, that needn’t trouble you,� she answered.
...‘You must have changed immensely. A year ago you valued your liberty beyond everything. You wanted only to see life.�"
"There was a penetrating chill in the image, and she drew back into the deepest shade of Gardencourt. She lived from day to day, postponing, closing her eyes, trying not to think. She knew she must decide, but she decided nothing; her coming itself had not been a decision. On that occasion she had simply started."
"There were lights in the windows of the house; they shone far across the lawn. In an extraordinarily short time—for the distance was considerable—she had moved through the darkness (for she saw nothing) and reached the door. Here only she paused. She looked all about her; she listened a little; then she put her hand on the latch. She had not known where to turn; but she knew now. There was a very straight path."