"Do not go gently into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light."
"I do not remember-that is the point-the first impulse that pumped and shoved most of the earlier poems along, and they are still too near me, with their vehement beat-pounding black and green rhythms like those of a very young policeman exploding, for me to see the written evidence of it."
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Source: Song: If I Were Tickled by the Rub of Love
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