FastSaying
The bosom-weight, your stubborn gift, That no philosophy can lift.
William Wordsworth
Philosophy
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Why should not grave Philosophy be styled. Herself, a dreamer of a kindred stock, A dreamer, yet more spiritless and dull?
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Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting. Not in entire forgetfulness, and not in utter nakedness, but trailing clouds of glory do we come.
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The cattle are grazing,Their heads never raising;There are forty feeding like one!
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Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart.
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What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
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