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Sunday, July 30, 2006



Let us alone. All things are taken from us, and become portions and parcels of the dreadful past.

Let us alone. What pleasure can we have to war with evil? Is there any peace in ever climbing up the climbing wave?

All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave in silence; ripen, fall and cease:

Give us long rest, or dreamful ease.

Please stop the WAR.



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