Across a world where all men grieve. And grieving strive the more, The great days range like tides and leave. Our dead on every shore.
Rudyard KiplingAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer, Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: December 30, 1865
- Died: January 18, 1936
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Real mothers don't just listen with humble embarrassment to the elderly lady who offers unsolicited advice in the checkout line when a child is throwing a tantrum. We take the child, dump him in the lady's cart, and say, "Great. Maybe you can do a better job."Real mothers know that it's okay to eat cold pizza for breakfast. Real mothers admit it is easier to fail at this job than to succeed.
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I saw our golden years on a black gale, our time of love spilt in the furious dust."O we are winter-caught, and we must fail,"said the dark dream, "and time is overcast."-And woke into the night; but you were there, and small as seed in the wild dark we lay. Small as seed under the gulfs of airis set the stubborn heart that waits for day. I saw our love the root that holds the vinein the enduring earth, that can reply,"Nothing shall die unless for me it die. Murder and hate and love alike are...
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