“Rosamond took off her hat, adjusted her veil, and applied little touches of her finger-tips to her hair—hair of infantine fairness, neither flaxen nor yellow. . . . [T]he two nymphs—the one in the glass, and the one out of it . . . looked at each other with eyes of heavenly blue, deep enough to hold the most exquisite meanings an ingenious beholder could put into them, and deep enough to hide the meaning of the owner if these should happen to be less exquisite.”

—George Eliot, Middlemarch, 1871-72.