Monday, May 28, 2012

Night, the beloved.  Night, when words fade and things come alive.  When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again.  When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.  
-Antoine de Saint-Exupéry






"These are the days that must happen to you."
-Walt Whitman

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