Never trust a liar. Even though they will always trust themselves.

A Shropshire Lad, XL

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:
What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

A E. Housman

—-

#poetry

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