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katlyn1213

  • My eyes are your windows.

    Mystified and Perplexed,I fix my gaze upon night's illumination;disguised as a nearly consumed cookie,eaten by the phases of the Earth.Its beams dance in the streets, backyards, oceans, and valleys of

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These were autumn mornings, the time of year when kings of old went forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole world.
— Rabindranath Tagore, The Cabuliwallah