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Have you ever had a difference with a dear friend? How his letters, written in the period of love and confidence, sicken and... Options
Daemon
Posted: Sunday, February 04, 2018 12:00:00 AM
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Have you ever had a difference with a dear friend? How his letters, written in the period of love and confidence, sicken and rebuke you! What a dreary mourning it is to dwell upon those vehement protests of dead affection!

William Makepeace Thackeray (1811-1863)
KSPavan
Posted: Sunday, February 04, 2018 4:18:53 AM

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Quotation of the Day

Have you ever had a difference with a dear friend? How his letters, written in the period of love and confidence, sicken and rebuke you! What a dreary mourning it is to dwell upon those vehement protests of dead affection!

William Makepeace Thackeray (1811-1863)
monamagda
Posted: Sunday, February 04, 2018 8:51:51 AM

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Context from: Vanity Fair


35. XXXV:
Widow and Mother

Have you ever had a difference with a dear friend? How his letters, written in the period of love and confidence, sicken and rebuke you! What a dreary mourning it is to dwell upon those vehement protests of dead affection!
What lying epitaphs they make over the corpse of love! What dark, cruel comments upon Life and Vanities! Most of us have got or written drawers full of them. They are closet-skeletons which we keep and shun. Osborne trembled long before the letter from his dead son.

The poor boy's letter did not say much. He had been too proud to acknowledge the tenderness which his heart felt. He only said, that on the eve of a great battle, he wished to bid his father farewell, and solemnly to implore his good offices for the wife--it might be for the child-- whom he left behind him. He owned with contrition that his irregularities and his extravagance had already wasted a large part of his mother's little fortune. He thanked his father for his former generous conduct; and he promised him that if he fell on the field or survived it, he would act in a manner worthy of the name of George Osborne.

His English habit, pride, awkwardness perhaps, had prevented him from saying more. His father could not see the kiss George had placed on the superscription of his letter. Mr. Osborne dropped it with the bitterest, deadliest pang of balked affection and revenge. His son was still beloved and unforgiven.

Read more:http://www.literaturepage.com/read.php?titleid=vanity-fair&abspage=410&bookmark=1

Bully_rus
Posted: Sunday, February 04, 2018 12:57:17 PM
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Location: Minsk, Minskaya Voblasts', Belarus
Daemon wrote:
Have you ever had a difference with a dear friend? How his letters, written in the period of love and confidence, sicken and rebuke you! What a dreary mourning it is to dwell upon those vehement protests of dead affection!

William Makepeace Thackeray (1811-1863)


Yeah. Be patient. All has its time: love, its death, its mourning and hopefully - love again...
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