…she would have derived only pain, and no pleasure, from giving me pain; she would far rather have wounded her own breast than mine.
Great Expectations
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Then she softly patted my shoulder in a soothing way, while with my face upon my sleeve I cried a little – exactly as I had done in the brewery yard – and felt vaguely convinced that I was very much ill-used by somebody, or by everybody; I can’t say which.
Great Expectations