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1 " For everything there is a season / But there is the dream / Of a season past all seasons. "
― Robert Penn Warren ,
2 " To wake in some dawn and see / As though down a rifle barrel, lined up / Like sights, the self that was, the self that is, and there / Far off but in range, completing that alignment, your fate. "
3 " Against firelight, he sees the face of the woman / Lean over, and the lips purse sweet as to bestow a kiss, but / This is not true, and the great glob of spit / Hangs there, glittering, before she lets it fall.The spit is what softens like silk the passage of steel / On the fine-grained stone. It whispers. "