Air, I should explain, becomes wind when it is agitated.
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Anand Thakur
Air, I should explain, becomes wind when it is agitated.
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Some species increase, others diminish, and in a short space the generations of living creatures are changed and, like runners, pass on the torch of life.
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Why dost thou not retire like a guest sated with the banquet of life, and with calm mind embrace, thou fool, a rest that knows no care?
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Tis pleasant to stand on shore and watch others labouring in a stormy sea.
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The mind like a sick body can be healed and changed by medicine.
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If one thing frightens people, it is that so much happens, on earth and out in space, the reasons for which seem somehow to escape them, and they fill in the gap by putting it down to the gods.
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O goddess, bestow on my words an immortal charm.
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Pleasant it to behold great encounters of warfare arrayed over the plains, with no part of yours in peril.
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Constant dripping hollows out a stone.
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Nature allows Destruction nor collapse of aught, until Some outward force may shatter by a blow, Or inward craft, entering its hollow cells, Dissolve it down.
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Truths kindle light for truths.
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To none is life given in freehold; to all on lease.
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The old must always make way for the new, and one thing must be built out of the ruins of another. There is no murky pit of hell awaiting anyone.
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We, peopling the void air, make gods to whom we impute the ills we ought to bear.
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Nature repairs one thing from another and allows nothing to be born without the aid of another’s death.
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All life is a struggle in the dark.
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