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Those who would see wonderful things must often be ready to travel alone.

The shiver that runs through the earth ere she rouses from her night sleep had already begun, and the cool wind that heralds the daybreak was drawing downward from the lofty, snow-traced ravines of Mount Orontes. Birds, half-awakened, crept and chirped among the rustling leaves, and the smell of ripened grapes came in brief wafts from the arbors.[…]Far over the eastern plain a white mist stretched like a lake.

The Other Wise Man,” Henry van Dyke, 1896

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