Charles Baudelaire
To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.
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I wrapped my Christmas presents early this year...Gray skies are just clouds passing over...A lot of guys try to mingle with me because of who I am...Older people sit down and ask, 'What is it?'...Voting is a civic sacrament...No man will make a great leader who wants to do it all...
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