“A number of the Times, five days old, had been in constant demand in all the sitting-rooms of a certain inn in a little mountain village of North Wales, through a long July morning.” (Gaskell)
“…the grandeur of this beautiful earth absorbed all idea of separate and individual existence.” (Gaskell)
“Remember, I have no companion but you in this out-of-the-way place.” (Gaskell)
“She then thought the land enchanted into everlasting happiness; she fancied, then, that into a region so lovely no bale or woe could enter, but would be charmed away and disappear before the sight of the glorious guardian mountains. Now she knew the truth, that earth has no barrier which avails against agony.” (Gaskell)
“Defining Wales is rather like defining poetry. For every rule someone comes up with there will be an exception which breaks it. Ultimately poems become what they are because the poet says so. Wales is like this.” (Finch)