Ross Poldark (Poldark, #1)

by Winston Graham

The band scraped away, the figures pirouetted, moving and bowing and stepping, turning on heels, holding hands, pointing toes; the shadows intermingled and changed, forming and reforming intricate designs of light and shade, like some gracious depiction of the warp and woof of life, sun and shadow, birth and death, a slow interweaving of the eternal pattern.

Beautiful description

All men were born in the same way: no privilege existed that was not of man’s own contriving.

“Otherwise,” said Dr. Halse, “we will have you committed for contempt of court.” Ross bowed slightly. “I can only assure you, sir, that such a committal would be a reading of my inmost thoughts.”

Clever

The thought of Demelza warmed his mind and lit it up, as the arrival of the candles had lit the room.

The harp music had touched at something more fundamental than their high spirits. It had spoken not of Christmas jollity and fun but of love and sorrow, of human life, its strange beginning and its inevitable end.

quiet unassuming dignity over the dinner,

“If you love someone,” said Demelza, “tesn’t a few bruises on the back that are going to count. It’s whether that other one loves you in return. If he do, then he can only hurt your body. He can’t hurt your heart.”

Dont love this, or agree with it.

The full silence of the old house was more potent than the empty silence of its youth.

I am not hungry or thirsty or lustful or envious; I am not perplexed or weary or ambitious or remorseful. Just ahead, in the immediate future, there is waiting an open door and a warm house, comfortable chairs and quietness and companionship. Let me hold it.