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Going Home by Paul Hogarth, Doris Lessing

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"But now, steadily flying south for hour after hour, one sees forest, mountain and lake; river and gorge and swamp; and the great riches of the flat, tree-belted grassland. The yellow flanks of Africa lie beneath the moving insect-like plane, black-maned with forest, twitching in the heat. A magnificent country, with all its riches in the future. Because it is so empty we can dream. We can dream of cities and a civilization more beautiful than anything that has been seen in the world before."
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