few passages from my favourite book "Mill On The Floss" by George Eliot

It was visited at different moments by two men who both felt that their keenest joy and keenest sorrow were forever buried here,In their death they were not divided.

The days when they had clasped their little hands in love ,and roamed the daisied fields together.

                                                                                                                                                            At last a mist gathered over the blue-gray eyes,and the lips found a word they could utter:the old childish - "Magsie!"

These bitter sorrows of childhood!when sorrow is all new and strange,when hope has not yet got wings to fly beyond the days and weeks,and the space from summer to summer seems measureless.