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| When as in silks my Julia goes, Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows The liquefaction of her clothes. Next, when I cast mine eyes, and see | 
| Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. - Jean Anouilh, When I am 
					sad and weary. When I think all hope has gone.  Those have most power to hurt us that we love. - Francis Beaumont | 
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