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Come seek us where our voices sound,We cannot sing above the ground,And while you’re searching ponder this;We’ve taken what you’ll sorely miss,An hour long you’ll have to look,And to recover what we took,But past an hour, the prospect’s black,Too late it’s gone, it won’t come back.
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"Mesmo quando tudo parece desabar, cabe a mim decidir entre rir ou chorar, ir ou ficar, desistir ou lutar." - Cora Coralina. (via promisse)
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