Lord Byron
Roll on, deep and dark blue ocean, roll. Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain. Man marks the earth with ruin, but his control stops with the shore.
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One of the penalties for refusing to participate...Everything works out how it should...Grief is the price we pay for love...It's a never ending battle of making your cars better...The sharing of joy, whether physical, emotional...So if I want to buy a light in a shop and I don't find...
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