For a plan to be made there's always something to be guided

wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.

Michael straightened. “I still married her, and I’d marry her again if I had it to do over.” A simple statement, calmly and quietly delivered, but his eyes were burning with wrath.

We have all got to exert ourselves a little to keep sane, and call things by the same names as other people call them by.

Written By George Eliot

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