At last Godfrey turned his head towards her, and their eyes met, dwelling in that meeting without any movement on either side. That quiet mutual gaze of a trusting husband and wife is like the first moment of rest or refuge from a great weariness or a great danger—not to be interfered with by speech or action which would distract the sensations from the fresh enjoyment of repose.

In their death they were not divided.

Even much stronger mortals than Fred Vincy hold half their rectitude in the mind of the being they love best. The theater of all my actions is fallen, said an antique personage when his chief friend was dead, and they are fortunate who get a theater where the audience demands their best.

There are natures in which, if they love us, we are conscious of having a sort of baptism and consecration: they bind us over to rectitude and purity by their pure belief about us; and our sins become that worst kind of sacrilege which tears down the invisible altar of trust. 'If you are not good, non is good'--those little words may give a terrific meaning to responsibility, may hold a vitriolic intensity for remorse.

She filled up all blanks with unmanifested perfections, interpreting him as she interpreted the works of Providence, and accounting for seeming discords by her own deafness to the higher harmonies. And there are many blanks left in the weeks of courtship, which a loving faith fills with happy assurance.

People who live at a distance are naturally less faulty than those immediately under our own eyes;

There are natures in which, if they love us, we are conscious of having a sort of baptism and consecration: they bind us over to rectitude and purity by their pure belief about us; and our sins become that worst kind of sacrilege which tears down the invisible altar of trust.

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

What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories.

She saw the years to come stretch before her like an autumn afternoon, filled with resigned memory. Life to her could never more have any eagerness; it was a solemn service of gratitude and patient effort. She walked in the presence of unseen witnesses—of the Divine love that had rescued her, of the human love that waited for its eternal repose until it had seen her endure to the end.

Faith is exceeding charitable, and believeth no evil of God.

As our dear Husband, in wooing his [church], received many a black stroke, so his bride, in wooing him, gets many blows, and in this wooing there are strokes upon both sides