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— Virginia Woolf"Often on a wet day I begin counting up; what I've read; what I haven't read."
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Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself, Counting this row and that row of moccasins Waiting on the silent shelf.
— Anne Sexton
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The heart can think of no devotion Greater than being shore to the ocean- Holding the curve of one position, Counting an endless repetition.
— Robert Frost
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