"For all things turn to barenness In the dim glass the demons hold The glass of outer weariness Made when God slept in times of old"

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To all the world he was the man of violence, half animal and half demon; but to her he always remained the little wilful boy of her own girlhood, the child who had clung to her hand. Evil indeed is the man who has not one woman to mourn him.

— Arthur Conan Doyle