| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - And she had moments of wrenching, inconsolable sorrow, some triggered by invisible quakes, others triggered by events that even we could see and understand, such as the times when the smell of lambs born, torn from their mothers, and slaughtered on neighboring farms filled the air and stirred her old pain, a pain that didn't lessen with time, but seemed to grow new thorns every spring.
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