The noblest instincts, the purest sympathies are persecuted, slandered; and if at length, two poor souls do meet, all is so organized that they cannot blend together. Yet they will make the attempt; they will flutter their wings; they will call upon each other. Oh! no matter. Sooner or later, in six months or ten years, they will come together - for fate has decreed it, and they were born one for the other.
Madame Bovary, G. Flaubert
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