"The night kissed the fading day With a whisper: "I am death, your mother, From me you will get new birth.""

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But perhaps age has taught me that the earth is still new, molten at the core and still forming, that black leaves in the winter forest will crawl with life in the spring, that our story is ongoing and it is indeed a crime to allow the heart's energies to dissipate with the fading of light on the horizon.

— James Lee Burke