Character: Natasha Rostova

I saw in the same order, he, Bolkonsky, he is. Do you think he will forgive me someday? He will not have against me? What do you think? What do you think?
- I think He has nothing to forgive...

I was told that it happens, and you probably heard, but only now I feel this love. That's not what it was before. As soon as I saw him I felt he was my master and I his slave, and that I can't help but love it.

- So, boys, do not spoil my honeymoon!
- What is honeymoon? He's married!

There are the same as we are, there are worse than us.

After returning home, Natasha did not sleep all night; she was tormented by the insoluble question of who she loved Anatole or Prince Andrey? Prince Andrew she loved - she remembered clearly how much she loved him. But she loved Anatol also, there was no doubt. "Otherwise, what's all this could be? she thought. - If I could then, in bidding him farewell, I could smile to answer his smile, if I could afford to do this, it means that I loved him. So, he's kind, noble, and beautiful, and it was impossible not to love him. What do I do when I love him and love another?" she said to herself, finding no answers to these terrible questions.

If I died for love of Prince Andrew, or not?" she asked herself and with soothing smile, said to himself: "I'm such a mess I ask this? What happened to me? Nothing. I did nothing, nothing caused it. No one will know, and I'll never see him again never, she said to herself. Therefore, it is clear that nothing happened, that have nothing to repent, that Prince Andrey can love me and such. But what such? Oh my God, Oh my God! Why he's not here!" Natasha was uspokaivali for a moment, but then again some instinct told her that though all this was true, and though nothing happened, instinct told her that all the old purity of her love for Prince Andrew had perished.