T. S. Eliot
It's strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling for breath, so the lover must struggle for words.
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The greatness of art is not to find what is common...I think about only me...Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity...Quality is everyone's responsibility...Few men have virtue to withstand the highest bidder...If we lose the war in the air we lose the war...
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