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William Shakespeare

When he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with the night And pay no worship to the garish sun. —  William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet: Act III, Scene ii Advertisements

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Virginia Woolf

For pain words are lacking. There should be cries, cracks, fissures, whiteness passing over chintz covers, interference with the sense of time, of space ; the sense also of extreme fixity in passing objects ; and sounds very remote and then very close ; flesh being gashed and blood sparting, a joint suddenly twisted –… Continue reading Virginia Woolf

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