When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn when man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die! – Anna Letitia Barbauld

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I never can hear a crowd of people singing and gesticulating, all together, at an Italian opera, without fancying myself at Athens, listening to that particular tragedy, by Sophocles, in which he introduces a full chorus of turkeys, who set about bewailing the death of Meleager. – Edgar Allan Poe
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