I want you to understand I shall not hold you to any midaevil code of faithfulness to me nor shall I consider myself bound to you similarly.
Now that I'm angry at Harold, it's hard to remember what was so remarkable about him.
Whenever I'm with my mother, I feel as though I have to spend the whole time avoiding land mines.
The truly faithless one is the one who makes love to only a fraction of you. And denies the rest.
He despises me, because he knows I love him.
He knows he is my sun, but when he chooses to withhold his light, he would have my sky to be all darkness; he cannot bear that I should have a moon to mitigate the deprivation.
You may think it all very fine, Mr. Huntingdon, to amuse yourself with rousing my jealousy; but take care you don't rouse my hate instead. And when you have once extinguished my love, you will find it no easy matter to kindle it again.
Whatever my husband's faults may be, it can only aggravate the evil for me to hear them from a stranger's lips.
You're at that game of threatening me with the loss of your affection again, are you? I think it couldn't have been very genuine stuff to begin with, if it's so easily demolished.