Nature is forever arriving and forever departing, forever approaching, forever vanishing; but in her vanishings there seems to be ever the waving of a hand, in all her partings a promise of meetings farther along the road.
Plant and your spouse plants with you; weed and you weed alone.
I have this complex. I don't like too much exposure. I don't know why it is. Maybe it's bred in me, because my dad always told me to be humble and don't think you're too good.
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