--Linda PastanWhen ambition, like a faultypilot light, sputtersand goes out and the abstractspark of hunger with it;when even those whose fieryeccentricities seemedinextinguishable have faded intodarkness or been snuffed out,we are left with the peaceof evensong, with nightcoming on in the midstof what yesterdaywas simply afternoon.All the clocks are changed now.It is almost time to feel our wayout of the world.
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