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My season
The cool breeze blankets me and my nose turns blue.
The heat is shut out but the sun is still out.
Not too cold or burning hot but feels so right.
Snuggling up to the warmth with a steaming brown mug besides me,
sleeves covering my cold hands, eyes going over and over my books,
The books that old stories are hidden and other worlds are discovered in.
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Favorite Quote:
"But words are things, and a small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces that which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think."<br /> -Lord Byron