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Life is but a day; A fragile dew-drop on its perilous way From a tree's summit. ---John Keats
***What are days for? Days are where we live. They come, they wake us Time and time over. They are to be happy in: Where can we live but days?
Ah, solving that question Brings the priest and the doctor In their long coats Running over the fields.*** ---Philip Larkin, Collected Poems
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