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I dropped my hoe and ran into the house and started to write this poem, 'End of Summer.’ It began as a celebration of wild geese. Eventually the geese flew out of the poem, but I like to think they left behind the sound of their beating wings.
— Stanley Kunitz
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If coming events are said to cast their shadows before, past events cannot fall to leave their impress behind them.
— H. P. Blavatsky
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