Status Updates From The Black Moon (Poldark, #5)

It is a sad truth that when a man falls in love with a girl he does not necessarily admire that girl's brothers and sisters, nor even the man and woman who gave her birth. Indeed, such is human nature, that the more a man loves his wife, the more possessively so, the less he is likely to esteem the womb that produced her, or the other fruits of that womb.

Seagulls blew up from a near-by field, littering the sky with their white wings.

They rode up to the door of Trenwith in tattered procession; a disparate yet matching couple: two big men, legs dangling, on two small ponies: the knight-errant and his shabby squire. Don Quixote had at least ridden a horse.

The hedgerows, after having been plastered down under weeks of frozen snow, seemed to flower the more, and bluebell and campion and milkmaid trembled in a patriotic riot of their own.