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Sunday July 5, 2015
This lonely house is but a tiny hut but I somehow love it. Should anyone doubt the truth of my words let him look to the fishes and the birds. Fish do not weary of water, but unless one is a fish one does not know why. Birds long for the woods, but unless one is a bird one does not know why. The joys of solitude are similar. Who could understand them without having lived here?