In this night too, in this night of his mortal eyes into which he was now descending, love and danger were again waiting...a murmur of glory and hexameters, of men defending a temple the gods will not save, and of black vessels searching the sea for a beloved isle;the murmor of the Odysseys and Iliads it was his destiny to sing and leave echoing concavely in the memory of man.These things we know, but not those he felt descending into the last shade of all.
-Jorge Luis Borges
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