The Green Fig Tree

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think; – George Gordon, Lord Byron

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Posted by katiecolvin on March 6th, 2010 | Filed in Rantings | Comment now »

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The little glimpse of domestic harmony which had been offered her, gave her no regret, no longing. It was not a condition of life which fitted her, and she could see in it but an appalling and hopeless ennui. — Kate Chopin, The Awakening
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