Instead of wondering at this result of misery in Mr. Casaubon, I think it quite ordinary. Will not a speck very close to our vision blot out the glory of the world, and leave only a margin by which we see the blot? I know no specks so troublesome as self.
George Eliot, Middlemarch
This morning, reading Middlemarch, I wanted to slap Rosamund this morning. However, reading this quote reminds me of how often I wanted to grasp Mr. Casaubon by the shoulders and shake him very, very hard. Talk about two people who did not deserve the good spouses they had. Oh my goodness.