They seemed to come suddenly upon happiness as if they had surprised a butterfly in the winter woods.
Edith Wharton
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As the pain that can be told is but half a pain so the pity that questions has little healing in its touch. What Lily craved was the darkness made by enfolding arms the silence which is not solitutde but compassion holding its breath.
- Edith Wharton -
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Life is either always a tightrope or a feather bed. Give me the tightrope.
- Edith Wharton -