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— Emily Bronte"Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts, unutterably vain; Worthless as withered weeds, Or idlest froth amid the boundless main."
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Who among you does not feel that his power to love is boundless? And yet who does not feel that very love, though boundless, encompassed within the center of his being, and moving not from love thought to love thought, nor from love deeds to other love deeds?
— Khalil Gibran
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A mother's love! O holy, boundless thing! Fountain whose waters never cease to spring!
— Marguerite Gardiner, Countess of Blessington
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