Quote 1
“Well,” said he, “I cannot help it if they do disapprove of me. There are certain irremovable barriers between myself and them, and I must accept them” (9.6).
The “he” here, Cecil, is really just being a pretentious jerk. His inflated sense of self-importance and dramatic difference allows him to take pleasure in fancying himself “irremovably” separated from the nice old ladies of Lucy’s neighborhood. Not only does he see himself as another class, he is almost of another breed entirely.
Quote 2
"I don't know that you aren't. I connect you with a view—a certain type of view. Why shouldn't you connect me with a room?"
She reflected a moment, and then said, laughing:
"Do you know that you're right? I do. I must be a poetess after all. When I think of you it's always as in a room. How funny!"
To her surprise, he seemed annoyed.
"A drawing-room, pray? With no view?"
"Yes, with no view, I fancy. Why not?"
"I'd rather," he said reproachfully, "that you connected me with the open air" (9.126-132).
Cecil demonstrates a rather interesting and very brief moment of self-awareness here; his comment that Lucy connects him with a view-less room really hits the nail on the head. This is also a blaringly clear sign that Lucy and Cecil are really not meant to be – if he’s a boring room and she’s an exciting view, they can’t possibly belong to each other. After all, the novel isn’t called A Room AND A View…
Quote 3
“Come this way immediately,” commanded Cecil, who always felt that he must lead women, though he knew not whither, and protect them, though he knew not against what (12.32).
Oh, Cecil. You always think you’re in charge, even when you have no clue what’s going on. Though common sense should tell any normal person that you shouldn’t lead anyone unless you know where you’re going, Cecil’s sure that he’s the most equipped person to be in charge, simply because he’s a man.
Quote 4
“I have never known you till this evening. I have just used you as a peg for my silly notions of what a woman should be. But this evening you are a different person: new thoughts—even a new voice—"
“What do you mean by a new voice?” she asked, seized with incontrollable anger.
“I mean that a new person seems speaking through you,” said he (17.35-7).
Though Lucy doesn’t want to admit it, Cecil is actually right for once. Lucy has found a new voice – and it sounds just like George. This makes us wonder how much she has truly come into her own at this point.
Quote 5
But to Cecil, now that he was about to lose her, she seemed each moment more desirable. He looked at her, instead of through her, for the first time since they were engaged. From a Leonardo she had become a living woman, with mysteries and forces of her own, with qualities that even eluded art. His brain recovered from the shock, and, in a burst of genuine devotion, he cried: "But I love you, and I did think you loved me!" (17.6).
Too late, Cecil realizes that Lucy is, in fact, not a work of art. Shocking!