May 2013
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Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky ...
– The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot (1888–1965). Prufrock and Other Observations. 1920.
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Like all dreamers I confuse disenchantment with truth.
– Jean-Paul Sarte
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You have to die a few times before you can really
live.
– Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last
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