If love is never sane, then lust certainly is all passion.
Elinor Dashwood cannot explain her affection for polite, reserved Edward Ferrars. In contrast, her younger sister Marianne endlessly extols the visage and virtues of dashing John Willoughby. Frustrated and lonely, Elinor yearns for Edward's touch and some declaration of his regard. Yet she loves him.
Marianne eagerly surrenders to rapture in Willoughby's arms—and cannot even consider the constancy of quiet, compassionate Colonel Brandon. Neither sister can escape the draw of lust. But as they learn more about those men they adore, they learn that love can be both sensible and sensational.
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