The Sky Was Clear - Remarkably Clear

There Was Now A Distinct Manifestation Of Morning In The Air, And Presently The Bleared White Visage Of A Sunless Winter Day Emerged Like A Dead-born Child.

There Are Disappointments Which Wring Us, And There Are Those Which Inflict A Wound Whose Mark We Bear To Our Graves. Such Are So Keen That No Future Gratification Of The Same Desire Can Ever Obliterate Them: They Become Registered As A Permanent Loss Of Happiness.

We Learn That It Is Not The Rays Which Bodies Absorb, But Those Which They Reject, That Give Them The Colours They Are Known By; And In The Same Way People Are Specialized By Their Dislikes And Antagonisms, Whilst Their Goodwill Is Looked Upon As No Attribute At All.

I Agree To The Conditions, Angel; Because You Know Best What My Punishment Ought To Be; Only - Only - Don't Make It More Than I Can Bear!

Do You Know That I Have Undergone Three Quarters Of This Labour Entirely For The Sake Of The Fourth Quarter?