How we cite our quotes: (Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #7
She felt nothing but that Arthur was cruel—cruel to write so, cruel not to marry her. Reasons why he could not marry her had no existence for her mind; how could she believe in any misery that could come to her from the fulfillment of all she had been longing for and dreaming of? She had not the ideas that could make up the notion of that misery.
As she threw down the letter again, she caught sight of her face in the glass; it was reddened now, and wet with tears; it was almost like a companion that she might complain to—that would pity her. She leaned forward on her elbows, and looked into those dark overflooding eyes and at the quivering mouth, and saw how the tears came thicker and thicker, and how the mouth became convulsed with sobs.
The shattering of all her little dream-world, the crushing blow on her new-born passion, afflicted her pleasure-craving nature with an overpowering pain that annihilated all impulse to resistance, and suspended her anger. She sat sobbing till the candle went out, and then, wearied, aching, stupefied with crying, threw herself on the bed without undressing and went to sleep. (31.8-10)
Though Hetty's dream world is delusional, she has convinced herself that her fantasies stand a chance of fulfillment. Poor girl. Now that her dreams have collapsed, she is forced to come to terms with her misconceptions. And Eliot provides a symbol of such "self-reflection" by seating Hetty before a looking glass in this scene. Self-reflection in a reflecting mirror. Subtle, Eliot.
Quote #8
Now his real life was beginning; now he would have room and opportunity for action, and he would use them. He would show the Loamshire people what a fine country gentleman was; he would not exchange that career for any other under the sun. He felt himself riding over the hills in the breezy autumn days, looking after favourite plans of drainage and enclosure; then admired on sombre mornings as the best rider on the best horse in the hunt; spoken well of on market-days as a first-rate landlord; by and by making speeches at election dinners, and showing a wonderful knowledge of agriculture; the patron of new ploughs and drills, the severe upbraider of negligent landowners, and withal a jolly fellow that everybody must like—happy faces greeting him everywhere on his own estate, and the neighbouring families on the best terms with him. (44.2)
Arthur envisions a fine future for himself—a future that will place him in a large number of respected roles. Realistic roles, too: not stuff like "multimillionaire astronaut" or "president of the universe." He will deal directly, understandingly, and sometimes severely with his farmers. But he will also garner the admiration of "neighboring families" and become known as man of leisure. That's right; he'll be respected just for chilling out.
Quote #9
That was Adam's state of mind in this second autumn of his sorrow. His work, as you know, had always been part of his religion, and from very early days he saw clearly that good carpentry was God's will—was that form of God's will that most immediately concerned him. But now there was no margin of dreams for him beyond this daylight reality, no holiday-time in the working-day world, no moment in the distance when duty would take off her iron glove and breast-plate and clasp him gently into rest. He conceived no picture of the future but one made up of hard-working days such as he lived through, with growing contentment and intensity of interest, every fresh week. Love, he thought, could never be anything to him but a living memory—a limb lopped off, but not gone from consciousness. (50.28)
Instead of killing Adam's ambitions, tragedy has caused Adam to form new priorities and abandon earlier hopes. He is still an industrious worker. But he no longer conceives of love as a possible reward for his determination. So what will he get at the end of the day? A plastic trophy? A gift certificate to Red Lobster? Nothing?