the diary (april, 1919) - dominick argento lyrics
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what sort of diary should i like mine to be? something so elastic that it will embrace anything, solemn, slight or beautiful that comes into my mind. i should like it to resemble some deep old desk in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through. i should like to come back, after a year or two, and find that the collection had sorted itself and refined itself and coalesced, as such deposits so mysteriously do, into a mould, transparent enough to reflect the light of our life
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