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Thought

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Power, like a desolating pestilence, 
Pollutes whate’er it touches; and obedience, 
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth, 
Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame 
A mechanized automaton.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, Queen Mab (1813), Canto III.

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