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Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move.
Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love.
-William Shakespeare
Flower of this purple dye
Hit with Cupid's archery,
Sink in apple of his eye
-A Midsummer Night's Dream
So we beat on, boats against the current,
borne back ceaselessly into the past.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald





