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I have written much, of course you know this well. Of ravens, and of Father Time and our coldest acquaintance, Death. I have written of simple pleasures, and of grand purpose. I have written of good and evil. I have written of hunger pangs and mortal wounds. But there is one such thing of which I have not yet written - of hope.
For it is by hope we all press on.
I know not if a raven ponders his life's work, but I know that a raven hopes for a better day, and a brighter tomorrow.
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