Before us great Death stands
Our fate held close within his quiet hands.
When with proud joy we lift Life’s red wine
To drink deep of the mystic shining cup
And ecstasy through all our being leaps—
Death bows his head and weeps.
by Rainer Maria Rilke
In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.
Abraham Lincoln
Happy Weekend ❤
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HANNA'S WALK 
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