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— Thomas Gray"Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep."
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Earth Mother, you who are called by a thousand names. May all remember we are cells in your body and dance together.
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If you bury your face in your tear-stained pillow and beg God to please send you your soul mate, may you not slur your words in such a way that they sound like "cell mate."
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