we had the stars, you and I, and this is given once only
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We have one more song for you. Maybe it’s the one you want to hear.
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(you blew me up like a big balloon, far too soon)
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“It is a wet, warm, gray November day, and the yellow-green trees are letting go their leaves in the sodden wind.”
— Sylvia Plath - from a letter to her mother featured in Letters Home (via watchoutforintellect)
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