I’d never mistake my Gran for a bollard.
No Association Whatsoever Thread
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I paused, before opening the front-door, for a moment of deep consideration.
Dim-lit, shadowy, full of menace and unimaginable chances, stretched all around my door the many-peopled streets. I could hear, ominous and muffled, the tides of traffic, sounding multitudinously along their ways. Was I equipped for the navigation of those waters, armed and ready to adventure out into that dangerous world again?
Gloves? Money? Cigarettes? Matches? Yes; and I had an umbrella for its tempests, and a latchkey for my safe return.
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amateur51
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Originally posted by vinteuil View PostWhen by sips of champagne and a few oysters they can no longer keep me from fading away into the infinite azure, 'you cannot,' I shall whisper my faint last message to the world, 'be too fastidious.'
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(Where's the "Gloves? Money? Cigarettes? Matches? Yes" paragraph from, vinsanto?"...the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices..."
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amateur51
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amateur51
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