"In politics you must always keep running with the pack. The moment that you falter and they sense that you are injured, the rest will turn on you like wolves."

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Our dead are never dead to us until we have forgotten them: they can be injured by us, they can be wounded; they know all our penitence, all our aching sense that their place is empty, all the kisses we bestow on the smallest relic of their presence.

— George Eliot