“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.”
More from Thomas Hardy
“To dwellers in a wood, almost every species of tree has its voice as well as its feature.”
“Yet it was in that vale that her sorrow had taken shape, and she did not love it as…”
“I cannot tell you. It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in language that is…”
“She's never found peace since she left his arms, and never will again till she's as he is…”