"It is always the same with mountains. Once you have lived with them for any length of time, you belong to them. There is no escape."

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Tell me not of joy: there's none Now my little sparrow's gone; He, just as you, Would toy and woo, He would chirp and flatter me, He would hang the wing awhile, Till at length he saw me smile, Lord! how sullen he would be!

— William Cartwright