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"It seemed to her for a moment that she was in the presence of a being who was pure consciousness - yet she had never been so aware of a man's body...the color of his skin blending with the chesnut brown of his hair, the loose strands of the hair shading from brown to gold in the sun, and his eyes completing the colors...his eyes were the deep, dark green of light glinting on metal. He was looking down at her with the faint trace of a smile, it was not a look of discovery, but of familiar contemplation - as if he, too, were seeing the long-expected and the never-doubted."
Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand, part 3, chapter 1
"And Eowyn looked at Faramir long and steadily; and Faramir said: 'Do not scorn pity that is the gift of a gentle heart, Eowyn! But I do not offer you my pity. For you are a lady high and valiant and have yourself won renown that shall not be forgotten; and you are a lady beautiful, I deem, beyond even the words of the Elven-tongue to tell. And I love you. Once I pitied your sorrow. But now, were you sorrowless, without fear or any lack, were you the blissful Queen of Gondor, still I would love you. Eowyn, do you not love me?"
Return of the King, J.R.R. Tolkien, book VI, chapter V
"But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.
-'In fact,' said Mustapha Mond, 'you're claiming the right to be unhappy.' -'All right then,' said the Savage defiantly, 'I'm claiming the right to be unhappy.'
-'Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen tomorrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind.' There was a long silence. 'I claim them all,' said the Savage at last. Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders. 'You're welcome,' he said."
Brave New World, Aldous Huxley, Chapter 17
"Without knowing, he came quickly towards her and crouched beside her again... At the back of his loins the fire suddenly darted stronger. He glanced apprehensively at her. Her face was averted, and she was crying blindly, in all the anguish of her generation's forlornness. His heart melted suddenly, like a drop of fire, and he put out his hand and laid his fingers on her knee. 'You shouldn't cry', he said softly."
Lady Chatterley's Lover, D.H. Lawrence, chapter 10
"I may ask, I suppose, where in particular my unworthiness lies? In my not marrying you, perhaps!'
-'Not by any means,' said Gabriel quietly. 'I have long given up thinking of that matter.'
'Or wishing it, I suppose,' she said; and it was apparent that she expected an unhesitating denial of this supposition. Whatever Gabriel felt, he coolly echoed her words - 'Or wishing it either."
Far From the Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy, chapter 20
"Yet he was doing a fine thing - proving on how little the soul can exist. Fed neither by Heaven nor by Earth he was going forward, a lamp that would have blown out, were materialism true. He hadn't a God, he hadn't a lover - the two usual incentives to virtue. But on he struggled with his back to ease, because dignity demanded it."
Maurice, E.M. Forster, chapter 28
"That was when Harry Hoekstra spoke to Ruth. She'd been completely unaware that he'd followed her into the hotel lobby, as he had every morning. 'I can translate for you,' Harry told Ruth. 'Just tell me what you want to say.' - 'Oh, it's you, Harry!" Ruth said, as if she'd known him for years."
A Widow for One Year, John Irving, part 3, chapter 7
