A poem records emotions and moods that lie beyond normal language, that can only be patched together and hinted at metaphorically.
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Everyone admits that love is wonderful and necessary, yet no one agrees on just what it is.
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Hit a tripwire of smell and memories explode all at once. A complex vision leaps out of the undergrowth.
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I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well.
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It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in between.
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Nothing is more memorable than a smell. One scent can be unexpected, momentary and fleeting, yet conjure up a childhood summer beside a lake in the mountains...
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Smell brings to mind... a family dinner of pot roast and sweet potatoes during a myrtle-mad August in a Midwestern town. Smells detonate softly in our memory like poignant land mines hidden under the weedy mass of years.
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Success produces success, just as money produces money.
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There is no way in which to understand the world without first detecting it through the radar-net of our senses.
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We live on the leash of our senses.
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