All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar.

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All through the long winter, I dream of my garden. On the first day of spring, I dig my fingers deep into the soft earth. I can feel its energy, and my spirits soar.

-- Helen Hayes

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The story of a love is not important – what is important is that one is capable of love. It is perhaps the only glimpse we are permitted of eternity.

-- Helen Hayes

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