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our prizes are Rembrandts and Rubens.
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It feels odd that in a place with so much death,
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I've never felt more alive.
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My thoughts soar with the tales
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these streets could tell of the Madonna's long journey to Paris
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and her triumphant return with the fall of Napoleon.
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You can see her porcelain hand gently holding the small boy
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as if to guard him from a fate she knew would come.
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I know in a time of war my
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endeavor must seem small, and perhaps it is.
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But I remain diligent and resolute in my belief
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that great works of art can never belong to any one individual.