Copy ImageWe mourn the blossoms of May because they are to whither; but we know that May is one day to have its revenge upon November, by the revolution of that solemn circle which never stops---which teaches us in our height of hope, ever to be sober, and in our depth of desolation, never to despair
William Peter Blatty
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The child was slender as fleeting hope
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Her shoes were comfortable. They reflected her hope for the evening
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Do you know what she did? Your cunting daughter?
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But a myth, to speak plainly, to me is like a menu in a fancy French restaurant: glamorous, complicated camouflage for a fact you wouldn't otherwise swallow, like maybe lima beans
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