‘Happiness is a blessed thing to see,’ the tallow candle thought to himself, ‘I must not forget how it looks, for I certainly shan’t see it again.’
“Nothing is as tedious as the limping days,
When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways,
And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom,
Assumes control of fate’s immortal loom”
Charles Baudelaire
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