Sappho — "I am weary of all your words and soft, strange ways."
I am weary of all your words and soft, strange ways.
I am weary of all your words and soft, strange ways.
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"Death must be an evil and the gods agree; for why else would they live for ever?"
"My blood with gentle horrors thrilled: My feeble pulse forgot to play; I fainted, sunk, and died away."
"Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables."
"You burn me."
"And I'm an inch from dying."
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