They were as sublime as the moon and stars above them, and the moon ans stars were as ardent as they. - Thomas Hardy

...Reminiscence is less an endowment than a disease, and expectation in its only comfortable form — that of absolute faith — is practically an impossibility; whilst in the form of hope and the secondary compounds, patience, impatience, resolve, curiosity, it is a constant fluctuation between pleasure and pain.

She could have never believed in the morning that her colorless inner world would before night become as animated as water under a microscope.

'Twas a little one-eyed, blinking sort o' place.