In bombers named for girls, we burned The cities we had learned about in school—...
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We died like aunts of pets or foreigners.
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One of the most obvious facts about grownups to a child is that they have forgotten what it is like to be a child.
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I wrung from the darkness—that the darkness flung me— Is worthless as ignorance: nothing comes from nothing,...
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It is like any other work of art. It is and never can be changed. Behind everything there is always The unknown unwanted life.
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It was not dying: everybody died.
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But really no one is exceptional, No one has anything, I'm anybody,...
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They said, 'Here are the maps'; we burned the cities. It was not dying—no, not ever dying;...
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But be, as you have been, my happiness...
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The blind date that has stood you up: your life.
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A poet is a man who manages, in a lifetime of standing out in thunderstorms, to be struck by lightning five or six times.
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The head withdraws into its hatch (a boy's), The engines rise to their blind laboring roar,...
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They said, "Here are the maps"; we burned the cities. It was not dying—no, not ever dying;...
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