So mommy told me how the icky bad nasties were being horrid to Laura and I felt very sad for her. So I thought I should get going on my poisonous dinner party. But I am poor and I do not know where to get arsenic. Until very recently I thought that having left that house everything was fine and I was well balanced and self actualized. No one is
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that he at night announces of the soul an aurora,
and these pages are of that hymn
cadences that the air expands in the shades.
I wanted to write to him, of the man
taming the rebel, stingy language,
with words that were at the same time
sighs and laughter, colors and notes.
But in vain it is to fight, that there is no number
able to lock up to him; and hardly, oh, beautiful,
if, having in my hands yours,
it could, to the ear, cantártelo solo.
Gustavo Adolph Bécquer, rima I
Thank you for using the correct gnome.
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