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Lighthouse

He seemed to live only for his lantern. There he lived, silently, watchfully, his eyes ever fixed on the vessels going or returning; isolated from his fellow-beings; above life, and yet below it; above its affections, its hopes, its fears, its sympathies, and yet only half alive; dead to the world, and yet a world to himself; a fiery human soul in the midst of a waste of waters. -- Elizabeth Harcourt Mitchell, The Lighthouse: A Novel, 1860

 

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Uploaded on October 22, 2017
Taken on October 14, 2017