Motivation |
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I took a piece of plastic clay And idly fashioned it one day; And as my fingers pressed it still, It moved, and yielded to my will I came again when days were past; The bit of clay hard at last; The form I gave it still it bore, But I could change that form no more. I took a piece of living clay, And gently formed it day by day, And molded with my power and art A young student's soft and yielding heart. I came again when years were gone; It was a man I looked upon; He still that early impress wore, And I could change him nevermore. - Author unknown |
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