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When eras die, their legacies Are left to strange police. Professors in New England guard The glory that was Greece.
— Clarence Day
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Come! Let us lay a lance in rest, And tilt at windmills under a wild sky! For who would live so petty and unblest That dare not tilt at something ere he die; Rather than, screened by safe majority, Preserve his little life to little end, And never raise a rebel cry!
— John Galsworthy
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