How lovely the little river is, with its dark changing wavelets! It seems to me like a living companion while I wander along the bank, and listen to its low, placid voice… – George Eliot
For what we call illusions are often, in truth, a wider vision of past and present realities –a willing movement of a mans soul with the larger sweep of the worlds forces –a movement towards a more assured end than the chances of a single life. – George Eliot
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