"You don`t have the same reaction to a girl walking around the street today in a nightgown and a vintage coat and sneakers, that you did six years ago."

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The Indian who was laid under a curse, that the wind should not blow on him, nor water flow to him, nor fire burn him, is a type of us all. The dearest events are summer-rain, and we the Para coats that shed every drop. Nothing is left us now but death. We look to that with a grim satisfaction, saying, there at least is reality that will not dodge us.

— Ralph Waldo Emerson