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Quote by Robert G. Ingersoll

“Strike, with hand of fire, O weird musician, thy harp strung with Apollo's golden hair; fill the vast cathedral aisles with symphonies sweet and dim, deft toucher of the organ keys; blow, bugler, blow, until thy silver notes do touch and kiss the moonlit waves, and charm the lovers wandering 'mid the vine-clad hills. But know, your sweetest strains are discords all, compared with childhood's happy laugh—the laugh that fills the eyes with light and every heart with joy. O rippling river of laughter, thou art the blessed boundary line between the beasts and men; and every wayward wave of thine doth drown some fretful fiend of care. O Laughter, rose-lipped daughter of Joy, there are dimples enough in thy cheeks to catch and hold and glorify all the tears of grief.”

Quote by Robert G. Ingersoll

Work

The Liberty of Man, Woman and Child

This book delves into the philosophical and societal implications of liberty, focusing on the rights and freedoms of all people, regardless of gender or age. It examines historical and contemporary perspectives on liberty, offering a nuanced understanding of its complexities and applications. more

Author

Robert G. Ingersoll

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