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A man travels the world in search of what he needs and returns home to find it.



But there's nothing half so sweet in life as love's young dream.


So long as one does not despair, so long as one doesn't look upon life bitterly, things work out fairly well in the end.


The moment we pass out of our habits we lose all sense of permanency and routine.

Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells!

Tis the last rose of summer. Left blooming alone.

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