'Night is the bitterest time for sorrow. Something there always is in the day ― in the activity of cloudy sunshine, or the waving of trees, or the going to and fro of men and women, and the sound of their voices ― to pluck grief as it were by the sleeve, and compel it from fixed contemplation. But the stillness of night gives subtlety to thought, and quickens the madness which despair truly is....'
from Auld Lang Syne by W. Clark Russell (Volume II, Chapter IV)
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