A Poet Reflects

“What was any art but a mold to imprison for a moment the shining  elusive element which is life itself—life hurrying past us and running  away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose.”
—Willa Cather

“What was any art but a mold to imprison for a moment the shining elusive element which is life itself—life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose.”

—Willa Cather

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