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| Photo by Randy Fath on Unsplash |
White winter had set in with the cruel stillness of cloudless frosts, with its thick crunching snow, rosy hoar-rimmed trees, pale emerald sky, smoke-capped chimneys, puffs of vapour from momentarily opened doors, of fresh faces stung by the cold, and the jerky trot of shivering horses.
Ivan Turgenev (in Fathers And Sons)
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