"Tis sweet to listen as the night winds creep From leaf to leaf."
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I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep- while I weep!
— Edgar Allan Poe
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Peeta?" I creep along the bank. "Well, don't step on me.
— Suzanne Collins
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