do you hear the people sing? singing the song of angry men, it is the music of a people who will not be slaves again. | i sing of time, concealer and revelator, time which will rejoin you to the dead, time which like water destroys all that it nourishes. | the fault, dear brutus, is not in our stars. but in ourselves, that we are underlings. | not all those who wander are lost. |

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