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My pen is at the bottom of a page,
Which, being finished, here the story ends;
'Tis to be wished it had been sooner done,
But stories somehow lengthen when begun.
-- Byron

As for the women, though we scorn and flout 'em,
We may live with, but cannot live without 'em.
-- Frederic Reynolds

O love, could thou and I with fate conspire
To grasp this sorry scheme of things entire,
Might we not smash it to bits
And mould it closer to our hearts' d

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