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"Can this be death?" thought Prince Andrew, looking with a quite new, envious glance at the grass, the wormwood and the streamlet of smoke that curled up from the rotating black ball. "I cannot, I do not wish to die. I love life - I love this grass, this earth, this air..." He thought this, and at the same time remembered that people were looking at him.
Leo Tolstoy, 'War and Peace', Book Three, Part II, 36.
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