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My father was often impatient during March, waiting for winter to end, the cold to ease, the sun to reappear. March was an unpredictable month, when it was never clear what might happen. Warm days raised hopes until ice and grey skies shut over the town again.
— Tracy Chevalier
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I made my way on to a grey list, a black list even. That's something I'm very proud of, actually.
— Elmer Bernstein
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