But she couldn’t "hurt his feelings," she reflected.
She reflected that she did not know whether the people liked her.
But she exclaimed over the lakes: dark water reflecting wooded bluffs, a flight of ducks, a fisherman in shirt sleeves and a wide straw hat, holding up a string of croppies.
She reflected that Mrs. Vopni, whose husband had been killed by a train, had ten children.
Of course I hope it isn’t, but we’ll reflect the morals of Gopher Prairie by officially announcing that it is!
Thinking of Hugh’s teething all the way, she did not reflect that this store, these drab blocks, made up all her background.
It was luxurious in bed, and the house would be warm for her when she rose, she reflected.
"That would be lots of fun, if it wouldn’t cost too much," reflected Vida.
In the prairie heat she trudged along unchanging ways, talked about nothing to tepid people, and reflected that she might never escape from them.
"Don Quixote," "Wilhelm Meister," and the Koran, she reflected that no one she knew, not even her father, had read all four.
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As she went dragging through the prickly-hot street she reflected that a citizen of Gopher Prairie does not have jests—he has a jest.
She reflected that if she could not have ballrooms of gray and rose and crystal, she wanted to be swinging across a puncheon-floor with a dancing fiddler.
"W-why——" she observed, as she reflected that in Gopher Prairie it is not decent to call on a man; as she decided that no, really, she wouldn’t go in; and as she went in.
He glanced across the reeds reflected on the water, the quiver of wavelets like crumpled tinfoil, the distant shores patched with dark woods, silvery oats and deep yellow wheat.
The only remnant of Vida’s identification of herself with Carol was a jealousy when she saw Kennicott and Ray together, and reflected that some people might suppose that Kennicott was his superior.
But when a man held her close at a dance, even when "Professor" George Edwin Mott patted her hand paternally as they considered the naughtinesses of Cy Bogart, she quivered, and reflected how superior she was to have kept her virginity.
Carol reflected that the carving-knife would make an excellent dagger with which to kill Uncle Whittier.
She was reflecting that he was a rustic, that she hated him, that she had been insane to marry him, that she had married him only because she was tired of work, that she must get her long gloves cleaned, that she would never do anything more for him, and that she mustn’t forget his hominy for breakfast.
While Mr. Stowbody gave a somatic and psychic study of them, Carol reflected, "Are they really so terribly interested in Ella’s tonsils, or even in Ella’s esophagus?
She reflected, "It was my fault.
It’s good to be hungry," she reflected, as they drove away.
She patted his pillows, turned down his sheets, as she reflected: "But I have won in this: I’ve never excused my failures by sneering at my aspirations, by pretending to have gone beyond them.