"Do not go gently into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light."
"The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer. And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose My youth is bend by the same wintry fever."
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Source: The Force That Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower l. 1 (1934)
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