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I see shame as being like the boggerts in Harry Potter. The only power it has over you is what you give it, but it's hard not to give it power because it preys on your worst fears.
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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