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Continue to ChatDo you remember the sight we saw, my soul, that soft summer morning round a turning in the path, the disgusting carcass on a bed scattered with stones, its legs in the air like a woman in need burning its wedding poisons like a fountain with its rhythmic sobs, I could hear it clearly flowing with a long murmuring sound, but I touch my body in vain to find the wound. I am the vampire of my own heart, one of the great outcasts condemned to eternal laughter who can no longer smile. Am I dead? I must be dead. - Charles Baudelaire from https://whatsmyquote.com/quote/do-you-remember-the-sight-we-saw-my-soul-that-soft-summer-morning-round-a-turning-in-the-path-the-disgusting