- Wilde
Sunday Girl - Blondie
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August is the month when wars start. It’s when water dries up and the spirit begins to wither. Insomniacs pull down their shades and lock themselves in their rooms in August. Lifelong friends have fist fights. People feel like they’re going to burst. Sometimes they do.
People move in September. School starts. Somehow the pulse revives. People begin to think about lighting fires for winter. Finally, August lets go like the leaves from the trees.
Al Aronowitz, August Blues
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from Sylvia Plath’s journal 26 June 1956 – 6 March 1961
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