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  • Death Quotes   657
  • That is no country for old men. The young In one another's arms, birds in the trees - Those dying generations-at their song, The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas, Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long Whatever is begotten, born, and dies. Caught in that sensual music all neglect Monuments of unaging intellect.
  • 5 years ago



    Tags : William Butler Yeats Quotes , Death Quotes , Summer Quotes