POEM
Try to Praise the Mutilated World
Though the world is full of suffering, we can remember its beauty, and praise it.
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It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for a bird to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.3
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