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! - Thomas Hardy

The physiognomy of a deserted highway expresses solitude to a degree that is not reached by mere dales or downs, and bespeaks a tomb-like stillness more emphatic than that of glades and pools. The contrast of what is with what might be, probably accounts for this.

Perfect, he, as a lover, might have called them off-hand. But no — they were not perfect. and it was the touch of the imperfect upon the would-be perfect that gave the sweetness, because it was that which gave the humanity.

Bygones would never be complete bygones till she was a bygone herself.