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These tears I’m wailing, I spill not without reason. Remove them, my dearest love. Take me to the place I’ve been dreaming of, where the grotesquely lonely meet the grotesquely lonely and they whisper, just very softly, Please be mine, Dearest Love. ― Morrissey, from “My Dearest Love,” Swords. (26 October 2009)

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Lyrics · Music · Poetry

Jim Morrison

I am troubled, immeasurably by your eyes. I am struck by the feather of your soft reply. The sound of glass speaks quick, disdain and conceals what your eyes fight to explain. ― Jim Morrison, Wilderness: The Lost Writings, Vol. (Vintage; 1st Vintage Books ed edition, December 17, 1989) Originally published 1988.

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