The weather is dreadfully grim in DC this weekend. It poured buckets last night, so my dear friend Erjona, and my sister, Sara, and I hunkered down to watch Sense and Sensibility over dinner and apple crumble.
Have you seen this movie? If you've not had the chance, you must! I ended the film longing to be whisked away to the English countryside and reborn with a thick, yet delicate English accent in order to say such fabulous things as this:
Marianne: Can he love her? Can the soul be satisfied with such polite affections? To love is to burn - to be on fire, like Juliet or Guinevere or Eloise...Call me a cynic, but if I said that in American English, the delivery just wouldn't be the same!
Mrs. Dashwood: They made rather pathetic ends, dear.
Marianne: Pathetic? To die for love? How can you say so? What could be more glorious?