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Literature

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Then what is? I ask. What is? Flesh lying alone? The grace of quest? The haunted, lazy houses are unaware that they are upside down. They quiver with loneliness. Some show signs of decay. Others are neat as can be, and some are so attractive one might almost.... But no. Go your way. Up through the body rises soul, soul, soul. It is everything that the body is. It was theirs but no longer. I have it.