No child but must remember laying his head in the grass, staring into the infinitesimal forest and seeing it grow populous with fairy armies. – Robert Louis Stevenson, Essays in The Art of Writing

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The stern hand of fate has scourged us to an elevation where we can see the great everlasting things which matter for a nation — the great peaks we had forgotten, of Honor, Duty, Patriotism, and clad in glittering white, the great pinnacle of Sacrifice pointing like a rugged finger to Heaven. – David Lloyd George
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