She shook her head in puzzlement. 'You're very strange,' she said. 'No, I'm very ordinary,' said Arthur,'but some very strange things have happened to me. You could say I'm more differed from than differing.

There was nothing she could say to them--nothing would be heard or answered. What were the weapons, she thought, in a realm where reason was not a weapon any longer? It was a realm she could not enter.

If you really want to kill yourself, you get a gun and blow your head off.

It is just that I don’t know how I could live without the hope of her. It would be like learning to live with wooden legs.

Written By George Eliot

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