An angel lives inside her Her soul is filled with holy light Though their wrath she may incur An angel lives inside her Though her soul she must inter To their attempts to smite An angel lives inside her Her soul is filled with holy light
When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind. — Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
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