They came on. I opened the gate and they stopped. turning. I was trying to say, and I caught her, trying to say, and she screamed and I was trying to say and trying and the bright shapes were going again. They were going up the hill to where it fell away and tried to cry. But when I breathed in, I couldn't breathe out again to cry, and I tried to keep from falling off the hill and I fell off the hill into the bright, whirling shapes.
-William Faulkner
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