Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me?” –

THE OLD PROVERBIAL RECOVERY

Walt Whitman, Song of the Open Road

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“He hesitated, but then stepped beneath the tree and knelt, depositing me gently on the ground between two giant roots. And he stayed there, kneeling beside me, holding my hand in his. Something splashed the back of my hand, cold as spring water, crystalling to my skin. A faery’s tears.”

― Julie Kagawa, The Iron Queen

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