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— Groucho Marx"There is no sweeter sound than the crumbling of one's fellow man."
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I could never be a country person, sitting around trees trying to write a song. I would rather be in the middle of society, whether it's growing or crumbling.
— Ric Ocasek
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…So when the last and dreadful hour This crumbling pageant shall devour, The trumpet shall be heard on high, The dead shall live, the living die, And Music shall untune the sky
— John Dryden
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