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Has my heart gone to sleep? Have the beehives of my dreams stopped working, the waterwheel of the mind run dry, scoops turning empty, only shadow inside? No, my heart is not asleep. It is awake, wide awake. Not asleep, not dreaming— its eyes are opened wide watching distant signals, listening on the rim of vast silence
— Antonio Machado
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Like a bird with broken wing that has traveled through wind for years . . . I sleep and my heart stays awake . . .
— Giorgos Seferis
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