“ It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through one of the broken panes I hear the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds. Some distant lamp or lighted window gleamed below me. I was thankful that I could see so little. All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and, feeling that I was about to slip from them, I pressed the alms of my hands together until they trembled, murmuring: O love! O love! many times.
— James Joyce ;; Araby
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