A few pages in and the floor has already shifted. It’s a strange thing to realize that beauty and ugliness, morality & immorality aren’t "out there," but entirely within us. ​Found a quote that perfectly caught this mood—now I’m wondering what else I’ve been misperceiving.

The quote goes like:

“No object is so ugly that, under certain conditions of light and shade, or proximity to other things, it will not look beautiful; no object is so beautiful that, under certain conditions, it will not look ugly. I believe that in every twenty-four hours what is beautiful looks ugly, and what is ugly looks beautiful, once.” — Oscar Wilde

I love how Mr. Darcy grows as a character; how rejection becomes a mirror through which he recognizes his own flaws and quietly sets about correcting them. How Austen sets a high standard here: that a man who truly loves changes himself without being asked to.

And yet, I find myself yearning for more of Darcy’s inner world. I have always been drawn to romances with a double narrative, and while Pride and Prejudice lets us witness his transformation through Elizabeth’s eyes, I long to know the conflicts that stirred within him—the doubts, the resolutions, the silent reckonings. Perhaps I expected too much from a classic written so long ago… or perhaps that very absence is what leaves me wanting more.