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William Blake

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The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding sheet.
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Line 115

 
William Blake

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Weave the warp, and weave the woof,
The winding sheet of Edward's race.
Give ample room and verge enough,
The Characters of hell to trace.

 
Thomas Gray
 

White as a winding sheet,
Masks blowing down the street:
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The drums of death are mumbling, rumbling, and tumbling,
Mumbling, rumbling, and tumbling,
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Edith Sitwell
 

My teacher Stefan Wolpe was a Marxist and he felt my music was too esoteric at the time. And he had his studio on a proletarian street, on Fourteenth Street and Sixth Avenue. . . . He was on the second floor and we were looking out the window, and he said, "What about the man on the street?" At that moment . . . Jackson Pollock was crossing the street.

 
Morton Feldman
 

Halfway down a by-street of one of our New England towns stands a rusty wooden house, with seven acutely peaked gables, facing towards various points of the compass, and a huge, clustered chimney in the midst. The street is Pyncheon Street; the house is the old Pyncheon House; and an elm-tree, of wide circumference, rooted before the door, is familiar to every town-born child by the title of the Pyncheon Elm.

 
Nathaniel Hawthorne
 

No man can control Wall Street. Wall Street is like the ocean. No man can govern it. It is too vast. Wall Street is full of eddies and currents. The thing to do is to watch them, to exercise a little common sense, and … to come out on top.

 
Jay Gould
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