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Dear as remember'd kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret. Oh death in life, the days that are no more.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
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What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.
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If, after I die, they should want to write my biography, There's nothing simpler. I've just two dates-of my birth, and of my death. In between the one thing and the other all the days are mine.
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Sweet April-time - O cruel April-time! Year after year returning, with a brow Of promise, and red lips with longing paled, And backward-hidden hands that clutch the joys Of vanished springs, like flowers.
Dinah Craik