When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.
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Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
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Posted by: Elisabetta
I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in, and invite God, and his Angels thither, and when they are there, I neglect God and his Angels, for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.
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