Anne Douglas Sedgwick

“ Bradley could not guess at; “a pool rippling and perhaps shallow, but open to the sun; and Toppie is like a well, cold and deep and narrow. And Giles is like the sea; deep and broad, too. How happy she might still be if she could love Giles.”
“Yes. Yes.” The tears rose to Mrs. Bradley's eyes. “And all that he thinks of is to live for her and all that she thinks of is that Owen is near her. Isn't it cruel?—I can't believe that about darling Owen, you know. I haven't her faith, and that distresses her in me, too. She doesn't want to be with people who haven't her faith. ”

“ I've always loved and admired Toppie and thought her a lovely creature; but I confess to you, Alix—because you understand her so well—that she has always seemed to me a little heartless. Or is that too strong a word? I don't know. Something is lacking. She would spend herself for people and do everything for them; there is no selfishness in her at all; but it's as if she'd do the more because she felt the less, and had to make up for it. It's strange, Alix, selfish, warm-hearted people may give much less pain than lovely people like Toppie. Owen was selfish compared to Toppie ”

“ Maman, with all her grace, her generosity, was oh! so practical. “And our people eat the blackbirds,” thought Alix while the song, as she listened to it, brought Giles's face vividly before her. Jerry was like a goldfinch—golden flashes, summery sweetness, swift eagerness, and gay inconsequent song. Giles was the blackbird ”