"We didn't start the fire It was always burning Since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire No we didn't light it But we tried to fight it"

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The dying sun will glow on you without burning, as it has done today. The wind will be soft and mellow and your hilltop will tremble. As you reach the end of your dance you will look at the sun, for you will never see it again in waking or in dreaming, and then your death will point to the south. To the vastness.

— Carlos Castaneda