Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all.
Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul – and sings the tunes without the words – and never stops at all.
The ninety and nine are with dreams, content but the hope of the world made new, is the hundredth man who is grimly bent on making those dreams come true.
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