Nature repairs her ravages, but not all. The uptorn trees are not rooted again; the parted hills are left… — George Eliot
Nature repairs her ravages, but not all. The uptorn trees are not rooted again; the parted hills are left scarred; if there is a new growth, the trees are not the same as the old, and the hills underneath their green vesture bear the marks of the past rending. To the eyes that have dwelt on the past, there is no thorough repair.
Source: Wikiquote · CC BY-SA 4.0
More from this book
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.
Jealousy is never satisfied with anything short of an omniscience that would detect the subtlest fold of the heart.
I've never any pity for conceited people, because I think they carry their comfort about with them.
