Now that the time that calls me to departdraws near, I think, or will not be too long,like one whom losses make acute and wise,I keep on wondering where I left the waythat leads to a safe haven on the right:and on the one hand I am stungby shame and sorrow making me turn back;and on the other cannot breakthe habit of a pleasure grown so strongthat now it dares to play for time with death.
-Francesco Petrarca
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