“There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense.”
This one was certainly from their earlier days. Adrian could picture her now, annoyed and flustered, sitting on her tiny bed in that dorm with a highlighter and novel in hand.
He glanced over at her and chuckled lightly at her expense. Flipping through the pages, he saw a pattern here; she despised him. He knew that then, but being reminded of it was pretty damn strange:
“An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.”
Her mother and Giacomo.
“Angry people are not always wise.”
Wasn’t that the truth...
“I have not the pleasure of understanding you.”
He didn’t understand his own damn self and still wouldn’t, really.
“I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.”
She did this the day he told her he loved her and took it back. Adrian knew she did.
“I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.”
Easier said than done, Tori.
“To be fond of dancing was a certain step toward falling in love.”
The wedding anniversary. He knew it. He remembered the way she beamed up at him and pretended not to be in pain as he stepped all over her shoes.
“We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.”
This still applied. Madeleine would say some shit like this to Tori, she probably had before.
“Till this moment I never knew myself.”
He wasn’t sure which of them this applied to more.
“?‘There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.’
“?‘And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.’
“?‘And yours,’ he replied with a smile, ‘is willfully to misunderstand them.’?”
Each part held more truth than the last as he skipped back to the front section of the familiar novel.
“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me, and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.”
He had once told Tori she wasn’t his type—what a fucking idiot he was. He meant, look at her: she was everyone’s type, even if they were too damn stupid to see it at first. His hands worked the pages, and his eyes skimmed over countless marked lines that related to the two of them and how she felt about him. This was the best gift he’d ever receive, that was for damn sure.
“You have bewitched me, body and soul.”
One of his favorite lines, he used it on her once when they first moved into this place. She scrunched up her nose at his corny use of the line, laughed at him, and tossed a piece of broccoli at him. She was always throwing shit at him.
“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever.”
He had changed for the better, for her, since he met her. He wasn’t perfect, fuck, nowhere near, but he could be one day.
“How little of permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue.”
He didn’t like this one at all. He knew exactly what was going through her mind as she highlighted it. Moving on...
“A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”
At least it wasn’t just Tori’s mind that did this crazy shit.
“Only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony.”
She left the rest of the sentence out, the part that said “which is why I shall end up and old maid.”
Only the deepest love could persuade him into matrimony. Hmm... He wasn’t sure even that would do it for him. There was no possible way that there was a love deeper than what he felt for this girl, but it didn’t change his opinion on marriage. People didn’t get married for the right reasons anymore, not that they ever did. In the past it was for status or money, and now it was only to be sure you wouldn’t be lonely and miserable—two things nearly every married person still felt anyway.
This one was certainly from their earlier days. Adrian could picture her now, annoyed and flustered, sitting on her tiny bed in that dorm with a highlighter and novel in hand.
He glanced over at her and chuckled lightly at her expense. Flipping through the pages, he saw a pattern here; she despised him. He knew that then, but being reminded of it was pretty damn strange:
“An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do.”
Her mother and Giacomo.
“Angry people are not always wise.”
Wasn’t that the truth...
“I have not the pleasure of understanding you.”
He didn’t understand his own damn self and still wouldn’t, really.
“I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.”
She did this the day he told her he loved her and took it back. Adrian knew she did.
“I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.”
Easier said than done, Tori.
“To be fond of dancing was a certain step toward falling in love.”
The wedding anniversary. He knew it. He remembered the way she beamed up at him and pretended not to be in pain as he stepped all over her shoes.
“We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would be nothing if you really liked him.”
This still applied. Madeleine would say some shit like this to Tori, she probably had before.
“Till this moment I never knew myself.”
He wasn’t sure which of them this applied to more.
“?‘There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.’
“?‘And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.’
“?‘And yours,’ he replied with a smile, ‘is willfully to misunderstand them.’?”
Each part held more truth than the last as he skipped back to the front section of the familiar novel.
“She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me, and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.”
He had once told Tori she wasn’t his type—what a fucking idiot he was. He meant, look at her: she was everyone’s type, even if they were too damn stupid to see it at first. His hands worked the pages, and his eyes skimmed over countless marked lines that related to the two of them and how she felt about him. This was the best gift he’d ever receive, that was for damn sure.
“You have bewitched me, body and soul.”
One of his favorite lines, he used it on her once when they first moved into this place. She scrunched up her nose at his corny use of the line, laughed at him, and tossed a piece of broccoli at him. She was always throwing shit at him.
“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever.”
He had changed for the better, for her, since he met her. He wasn’t perfect, fuck, nowhere near, but he could be one day.
“How little of permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue.”
He didn’t like this one at all. He knew exactly what was going through her mind as she highlighted it. Moving on...
“A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”
At least it wasn’t just Tori’s mind that did this crazy shit.
“Only the deepest love will persuade me into matrimony.”
She left the rest of the sentence out, the part that said “which is why I shall end up and old maid.”
Only the deepest love could persuade him into matrimony. Hmm... He wasn’t sure even that would do it for him. There was no possible way that there was a love deeper than what he felt for this girl, but it didn’t change his opinion on marriage. People didn’t get married for the right reasons anymore, not that they ever did. In the past it was for status or money, and now it was only to be sure you wouldn’t be lonely and miserable—two things nearly every married person still felt anyway.