Garlands

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A Coign of Vantage, by Sir Lawrence Alma Tadema

The bright souls in your encounters wait for you temporarily, for a transitive amount of time. In your frame of mind then, holding onto their influence will ever be enough. Wonderous flashes of your kaleidoscopic episodes they are. I hope they hang garlands around your neck, like sunsets dripping auburn; I hope their words bear some resemblance to sages' discourses. Once every lifetime, at their sentence's end, you will feel the earth shake. 

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