""Ah, don't grieve little falcon" he said with that tenderly melodious gentleness with which old Russian women speak. "Don't grieve, little friend: you suffer an hour, you live an age! So it is my dear, And we live here, thank God, with no offence. There's bad people, and there's good," he said and, while speaking, shifted his weight to his knees in a supple movement, got up, and, clearing his throat, went somewhere"
Tolstoy. War and Peace. pp 969-70