Copy ImageAnd now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?
Mervyn Peake
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To live at all is miracle enough
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I, while the gods laugh, the world's vortex am;Maelström of passions in that hidden seaWhose waves of all-time lap the coasts of me;And in small compass the dark waters cram.- I, While the Gods Laugh, the World's Vortex Am
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Life is too fleet for onomatopoeia
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He saw in happiness the seeds of independence, and in independence the seeds of revolt
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