"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."
"Oh, a dainty plant is the ivy green, That creepeth o'er ruins old! Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, In his cell so lone and cold. Creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the ivy green."
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Source: Charles Dickens (1905). “The Pickwick Papers”, p.70
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