He loves but little who can say and count in words how much he loves
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There sighs, lamentations and loud wailings resounded through the starless air, so that at first it made me weep; strange tongues, horrible language, words of pain, tones of anger, voices loud and hoarse, and with these the sound of hands, made a tumult which is whirling through that air forever dark, and sand eddies in a whirlwind.
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If the present world go astray, the cause is in you, in you it is to be sought.
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Avarice, envy, pride, Three fatal sparks, have set the hearts of all On Fire.
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For he who sees a need but waits to be asked is already set on cruel refusal.
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