George Eliot Quote

Let thy chief terror be of thine own soul:There, 'mid the throng of hurrying desiresThat trample on the dead to seize their spoil,Lurks vengeance, footless, irresistibleAs exhalations laden with slow death,And o'er the fairest troop of captured joysBreathes pallid pestilence.

George Eliot

Let thy chief terror be of thine own soul:There, 'mid the throng of hurrying desiresThat trample on the dead to seize their spoil,Lurks vengeance, footless, irresistibleAs exhalations laden with slow death,And o'er the fairest troop of captured joysBreathes pallid pestilence.

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