"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."
"But the moon came slowly up in all her gentle glory, and the stars looked out, and through the small compass of the grated window, as through the narrow crevice of one good deed in a murky life of guilt, the face of Heaven shone bright and merciful. He raised his head; gazed upward at the quiet sky, which seemed to smile upon the earth in sadness, as if the night, more thoughtful than the day, looked down in sorrow on the sufferings and evil deeds of men; and felt its peace sink deep into his heart."
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Source: Charles Dickens (1868). “Barnaby Rudge, And, Hard Times: With Ten Illustrations”, p.346
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