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7
I shall like to be resembling that cheerful fellow, who on his way, smiling greets every passer-by as though a friend dear, whose trail is to the encounter thrice warmed, and through the breach, kindles a small torch in each by which they may home to a kinder self, be guided.
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6
There is an obviousness, when I write. An unreasonable urgency. It is the only thing I can bare to exchange my miracle for.
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5
In my declining years when no more, or merely will my formerly firm limbs take me there I should choose to wander, but failing to comply with the pace of my still fresh fancy’s wonderings, I will renovated recall that divine intersection of my youth, when by some celestial summons I turned over many a […]
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4
A journals fruitage is life twice tasted.
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3
Though mountains stall and rumours tax. Thoroughly live, and true. Lest we ourselves forget.
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2
Slander inflicts upon agreement.
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1
What is this lightning in my chest that goads me to write? For whom and what profit? What rushes a child to make a riot with puddles?