Rossetti: Now, try a shot of the best condolence for the collapse of ideals.
William: Drink disagrees with me.
R: Me too, but I enjoy the argument.
ep4
Annie: On day, in years to come, you and I shall meet, and you will be a famous and successful painter, a fellow of the Academy, quite the toff, and I'll be a jolly round matron with seven children and umpteen granchildren. And we will talk and we will laugh. We will laugh about all of this because it will not matter nearly as much as it seems to matter now.
ep6
Gabriel: When do I see thee the most, beloved one?
When in the light, the spirits of mine eyes
Before thy face, their altar, solemnize.
Gabriel: This is her picture as she was,
It seems a thing to wonder on
as though mine image in the glass
should tarry when myself am gone.
Lizzie's final poem:
oh, never weep for love that's dead,
since love's seldom true
but changes his fashion from blue to red, from brightest red to blue,
and love was born to an early death and is so seldom true.
if the merest dream of love were true
then sweet, we should be in heaven
and this is only earth, my dear,
where true love is not given.
