Every day has its great grief or its small anxiety. ... One cloud is dispelled another forms. There is hardly one day in a hundred of real joy and bright sunshine.

Every day has its great grief or its small anxiety. ... One cloud is dispelled another forms. There is hardly one day in a hundred of real joy and bright sunshine.
Victor Hugo

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The ox suffers, the cart complains.
- Victor Hugo
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He left her. She was dissatisfied with him. He had preferred to incur her anger rather than cause her pain. He had kept all the pain for himself.
- Victor Hugo

Every day has its great grief or its small anxiety. ... One cloud is dispelled another forms. There is hardly one day in a hundred of real joy and bright sunshine. Victor Hugo

Every day has its great grief or its small anxiety. ... One cloud is dispelled another forms. There is hardly one day in a hundred of real joy and bright sunshine.
Victor Hugo