And the time came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. — Anais Nin
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We have lingered in the chambers of the sea / By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown / Till human voices wake us, and we drown. — T.S. Eliot, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea / By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown / Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
Fathers and Sons