Time flies over us, but leaves it shadow behind. – Nathaniel Hawthorne
The world owes all its onward impulses to men ill at ease. The happy man inevitably confines himself within ancient limits. – Nathaniel Hawthorne
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The only sensible ends of literature are, first, the pleasurable toil of writing second, the gratification of ones family and friends and lastly, the solid cash. – Nathaniel Hawthorne
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