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In her eyes a thoughtA mystical forewarning!
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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There's a special Providence that watches over idiots, drunken men, and boys.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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They fail, and they alone, who have not striven.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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O harp of life, so speedily unstrung!
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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So precious life is! Even to the old The hours are as a miser's coins!
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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Here is woe, a self and not the mask of woe.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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The man who suspects his own tediousness is yet to be born.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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After a debauch of thunder-shower, the weather takes the pledge and signs it with a rainbow.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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The laurels of an orator who is not a master of literary art wither quickly.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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A man is known by the company his mind keeps.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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True art selects and paraphrases, but seldom gives a verbatim translation.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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Civilization is the lamb's skin in which barbarism masquerades.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |
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What is slang in one age sometimes goes into the vocabulary of the purist in the next.
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Thomas Bailey Aldrich |