For the final truth about snowflakes is that they become more individual as they fall—that, buffeted by wind and time, they are translated, as if by magic, into ever more strange and complex patterns, until, at last, like us, they touch earth. Then, like us, they melt.
All Alike by Adam Gopnik http://www.newyorker.com/talk/comment/2011/01/03/110103taco_talk_gopnik
2.
"We'll always have Paris" Casablanca
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