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Julia Dorr Quotes

Grass grows at last above all graves.

O golden Silence, bid our souls be still, and on the foolish fretting of our care lay thy soft touch of healing unaware!

Stars will blossom in the darkness, Violets bloom beneath the snow.

Who soweth good seed shall surely reap; The year grows rich as it groweth old, And life's latest sands are its sands of gold!