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Do not go gentle into that good night
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death-and-dying
poetry
philosophy
inspirational
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Dylan Thomas |
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Now behind the eyes and secrets of the dreamers in the streets rocked to sleep by the sea, see the titbits and topsyturvies, bobs and buttontops, bags and bones, ash and rind and dandruff and nailparings, saliva and snowflakes and moulted feathers of dreams, the wrecks and sprats and shells and fishbones, whale-juice and moonshine and small salt fry dished up by the hidden sea.
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Dylan Thomas |
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the sloeback, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat bobbing sea
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Dylan Thomas |
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After the first death, there is no other.
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Dylan Thomas |
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And the sabbath rang slowly In the pebbles of the holy streams.
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Dylan Thomas |
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Time held me green and dying Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
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Dylan Thomas |