“The whelp went home and went to bed.
If he had had any sense of what he had done that night,
and had been less of a whelp and more of a brother,
he might have turned short on the road,
might have gone down to the ill-smelling river that was dyed black,
might have gone to bed in it for good and all,
and have curtained his head forever with its filthy waters.”
~ Charles Dickens, Hard Times
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