There was a huge old rock who thought it was being hit unsparingly, broken down, and snubbed by the sculptor, day after day.
Life was going to chisel the rock each day, till all the unwanted parts would be chipped away, to be made into a beautiful sculpture. The sculptor felt like witnessing what life was doing to him and thought, who is the sculptor?
Life was going to chisel the rock each day, till all the unwanted parts would be chipped away, to be made into a beautiful sculpture. The sculptor felt like witnessing what life was doing to him and thought, who is the sculptor?
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