"A man is lucky if he is the first love of a woman. A woman is lucky if she is the last love of a man."
"A blight had fallen on the trees and shrubs; and the wind, at length beginning to break the unnatural stillness that had prevailed all day, sighed heavily from time to time, as though foretelling in grief the ravages of the coming storm. The bat skimmed in fantastic flights through the heavy air, and the ground was alive with crawling things, whose instinct brought them forth to swell and fatten in the rain."
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Source: Charles Dickens (1870). “Novels”, p.38
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