I could think was that they were listening to us somehow
“Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be...”
― William Wordsworth
“All of sudden, this shooting star went by, and all I could think was that they were listening to us somehow. ”
― Nicholas Sparks
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