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— Stephen King"The redness was going out of the light now, the remains of the day were a fading pink, the color of wild roses."
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The night kissed the fading day With a whisper: "I am death, your mother, From me you will get new birth."
— Rabindranath Tagore
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there are only these: sparkling eyes, smudged lipstick, fading starlight, the crunching of feet on gravel, laughter, and a slow walk home.
— Jon McGregor
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