Mention111476
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so:text | Can my fond heart, on such a feeble proof, Embrace a faith, abhorred by him I love? I see too plainly custom forms us all; Our thoughts, our morals, our most fixed belief, Are consequences of our place of birth: Born beyond Ganges, I had been a Pagan; In France, a Christian; I am here a Saracen: 'Tis but instruction, all! Our parents' hand Writes on our heart the first faint characters, Which time, re-tracing, deepens into strength, That nothing can efface, but death or Heaven. (en) |
so:isPartOf | https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Aaron_Hill_(writer) |
so:description | Zara (1735) (en) |
qkg:hasContext | qkg:Context54620 |
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Triples where Mention111476 is the object (without rdf:type)
qkg:Quotation104285 | qkg:hasMention |
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