A bibliophile of little means is likely to suffer often. Books don't slip from his hands but fly past him through the air, high as birds, high as prices.
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Es tan corto el amor, y tan largo el olvido. (Love is so short, and forgetting is so long.)
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Es tan corto el amor, y tan largo el olvido. (Love is so short, and forgetting is so long.)
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A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.
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I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.
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