"It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through
one of the broken panes I heard 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 palms of my hands
together until they trembled, murmering:
O love! O love!..."
--James Joyce, Araby
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