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Tell us what it is to be a woman so that we may know what it is to be a man. What moves at the margin. What it is to have no home in this place. To be set adrift from the one you knew. What it is to live at the edge of towns that cannot bear your company.
Nobel Laureates in Literature.
To kill a relative of whom you are tired is something. But to inherit his property afterwards, that is genuine pleasure.
Honoré de Balzac
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