"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 tranquil summer sunset shone upon him as he approached the end of his walk, and passed through the meadows by the river side. He had that sense of peace, and of being lightened of a weight of care, which country quiet awakens in the breasts of dwellers in towns."
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Source: Charles Dickens (1868). “Little Dorrit”, p.318, Kartindo.com
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