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William Butler Yeats

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A bloody and a sudden end,
Gunshot or a noose,
For Death who takes what man would keep,
Leaves what man would lose.
--
John Kinsella’s Lament For Mrs. Mary Moore', st. 1

 
William Butler Yeats

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As though there were a tie
And obligation to posterity.
We get them, bear them, breed, and nurse:
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That we, lest they their rights should lose,
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Any writer of any worth at all hopes to play only a pocket-torch of light — and rarely, through genius, a sudden flambeau — into the bloody yet beautiful labyrinth of human experience, of being.

 
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Death isn't online. If he was, there would be a sudden drop in the death rate. Although it'd be interesting to see if he'd post things like: DON'T YOU THINK I SOUND LIKE JAMES EARL JONES?

 
Terry Pratchett
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