"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."
"In this way they went on, and on, and on-in the language of the story-books-until at last the village lights appeared before them, and the church spire cast a long reflection on the graveyard grass; as if it were a dial (alas, the truest in the world!) marking, whatever light shone out of Heaven, the flight of days and weeks and years, by some new shadow on that solemn ground."
3 likes
Source: Charles Dickens (1872). “Works of Charles Dickens”, p.123
About the author