Sweet fire the sire of muse, my soul needs this; I want the one rapture of an inspiration. O then if in my lagging lines you miss
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all Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.
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O if we but knew what we do when we delve or hew -- hack and rack the growing green! Since country is so tender to touch, her being so slender, that like this sleek and seeing ball but a prick will make no eye at all, where we, even where we mean to mend her we end her, when we hew or delve: after-comers cannot guess the beauty been.
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Towery city and branching between towers; Cuckoo-echoing, bell-swarmed, lark-charmed, rook-racked, river-rounded.
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That piecemeal peace is poor peace. What pure peace allows Alarms of wars, the daunting wars, the death of it?
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What would the world be, once bereft of wet and wildness? Let them be left. O let them be left, wildness and wet; Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
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I think that the trivialness of life is, and personally to each one, ought to be seen to be, done away with by the Incarnation.
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Up above, what wind walks! What lovely behavior of silk-sack clouds has wilder, wilful, wavier, meal-drift molded over and melted across skies!
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Recognition is the greatest motivator.
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Did is a word of achievement Won't is a word of defeat Might is a word of bereavement Can't is a word of defeat Ought is a word of duty Try is a word each hour Will is a word of beauty Can is a word of power.
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How have I been able to live so long outside Nature without identifying myself with it? Everything lives, moves, everything corresponds; the magnetic rays, emanating either from myself or from others, cross the limitless chain of created things unimpeded; it is a transparent network that covers the world, and its slender threads communicate themselves by degrees to the planets and stars. Captive now upon earth, I commune with the chorus of the stars who share in my joys and sorrows.
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War has ended, not with the bang of a bomb, but with the gentle whisper of crashing software.
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No age or time of life, no position or circumstance, has a monopoly on success. Any age is the right age to start doing!
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On an eastern-rig, the captain can look out and see all the men on deck. On the other, you can only look where you're going.
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The first moments of sleep are an image of death; a hazy torpor grips our thoughts and it becomes impossible for us to determine the exact instant when the I, under another form, continues the task of existence.
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Lyon's biggest rival is Lyon itself. We need to stay vigilant. Our ambition is to win the treble.
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Each flower is a soul blossoming out to nature.
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At twenty you have many desires which hide the truth, but beyond forty there are only real and fragile truths --your abilities and your failings.
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The concerns of the United States are the same as the Haitians,
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Today you play for a place in history, today you play for immortality.
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