GEORGE ELIOT
Mary Ann Evans (1819–1880), known by her pen name George Eliot, was one of the greatest novelists to ever describe and critique the human condition. In her novel Daniel Deronda, Evans penned one of the most moving and beautiful explanations of love in all literature, contained in the final lines of this excerpt. Deronda’s love for Mirah is an “infolding of immeasurable cares.” In real love, the little things done out of devotion and commitment—taking the kids to football practice, going food shopping, cleaning the house—are greater than any happiness found outside of that relationship.
And Deronda was not long before he came to Diplow, which was at a more convenient distance from town than the Abbey. He had wished to carry out a plan for taking Ezra and Mirah to a mild spot on the coast, while he prepared another home that Mirah might enter as his bride, and where they might unitedly watch over her brother. But Ezra begged not to be removed, unless it were to go with them to the East. All outward solicitations were becoming more and more of a burden to him; but his mind dwelt on the possibility of this voyage with a visionary joy. Deronda, in his preparations for the marriage, which he hoped might not be deferred beyond a couple of months, wished to have fuller consultation as to his resources and affairs generally with Sir Hugo, and here was a reason for not delaying his visit to Diplow. But he thought quite as much of another reason—his promise to Gwendolen. The sense of blessedness in his own lot had yet an aching anxiety at its heart: this may be held paradoxical, for the beloved lover is always called happy, and happiness is considered as a wellfleshed indifference to sorrow outside it. But human experience is usually paradoxical, if that means incongruous with the phrases of current talk or even current philosophy. It was no treason to Mirah, but a part of that full nature which made his love for her the more worthy, that his joy in her could hold by its side the care for another. For what is love itself, for the one we love best ?—an infolding of immeasurable cares which yet are better than any joys outside our love.