. . . there was no gleam, no shadow, for the heavens, too, were one still, pale cloud no sound or motion in anything but the dark river that flowed and moaned like an unresting sorrow. (George Eliot)

. . . there was no gleam, no shadow, for the heavens, too, were one still, pale cloud no sound or motion in anything but the dark river that flowed and moaned like an unresting sorrow.

George Eliot

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anything cloud dark gleam motion pale river shadow sorrow sound heavens

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