Found here
American graffiti, 1973
As we became older we slowly started to age.
It was not perfect. It was marred by what to come. What was really perfect was all that before that night. The summers, the wine, the smoke, the smiles, the laughter, the kissing, crying and cursing. The love we shared and the idea of eternity. Death was nothing and life was the same. It is only when we think of life as something that dies we become mortal. Those who don’t think they will die live forever.
Beautiful Autumn
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