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"What divine music she lured out of the old violin--merry and sad, gay and sorrowful by turns, music such as the stars of morning might have made singing together, music that the fairies might have danced to in their revels among the green hills or on yellow sands, music that might have mourned over the grave of a dead hope. Then she drifted into a still sweeter strain. As he listened to it he rea...

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  • Sometimes I think about the ones that we’ve replaced; all the millions underneath the burnt and waste; and I get sad because, of course, we’ll be the same-all of history collapsing in its wake. Maybe it’s enough that I have laid here. Maybe it’s enough that I have known inside my head, and maybe it’s enough to know that we were here together and that we are the ones, we are the ones, we are the ones for now. I heard that someday when they look up at the night they’ll see nothing but a black and starless sky and they’ll tell stories of some old and callow time, claiming spectacles of brilliant burning lights. So maybe this is what it takes to realize I am grateful just that I have been alive and I’ll be happy if I look back on my life, been a sister, been a mother, been a wife. ~Grannis
jan 3 2019 ∞
jan 3 2019 +