"Do not go gently into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light."
"My tears are like the quiet drift of petals from some magic rose; and all my grief flows from the rift of unremembered skies and snows. I think that if I touched the earth, it would crumble; it is so sad and beautiful, so tremulously like a dream."
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Source: Dylan Thomas, “Clown In The Moon”
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