” His father said. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. “Michelle, don’t do this. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights.
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