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— William Shakespeare"A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; His dew falls everywhere."
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And my heart springs up anew, Bright and confident and true, And the old love comes to meet me, in the dawning and the dew.
— Robert Louis Stevenson
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Sometimes in June, when I see unearned dividends of dew hung on every lupine, I have doubts about the real poverty of the sands. On solvent farmlands lupines do not even grow, much less collect a daily rainbow of jewels.
— Aldo Leopold
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