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These pages of a 1959
second grade Persian text book awaken the nostalgic feelings and yearning for
the days of innocence, when we were looking forward to a future of brighter days
to come. Did they ever come, I am not sure, but a statement by a friend sums it
up, who said the other day that he felt as if he had been living a nightmare
over the past 30 years.
While I share his
feelings, I believe life is a very happy voyage if it wasn't for the unhappy
interruptions along the way; but for some people, the entire journey is nothing
but interruptions. For me, these few lines of an old American song will do:
The
book of life is brief
Once a page is read
All but love is dead
That is my belief
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