Middlemarch

by George Eliot

A man is seldom ashamed of feeling that he cannot love a woman so well when he sees a certain greatness in her, Nature having intended greatness for men.

He distrusted her affection, and what loneliness is more lonely than distrust?

But it is one thing to like defiance, and another thing to like its consequences.

and we all know the difficulty of carrying out a resolve when we secretly long that it may turn out to be unnecessary. In such states of mind the most incredulous person has a private leaning towards miracle: impossible to conceive how our wish could be fulfilled, still—very wonderful things have happened!

In marriage, the certainty, “She will never love me much,” is easier to bear than the fear, “I shall love her no more.”