Since Fortune has chosen that my hope should go to the wind to complain,
I wish the time were destroyed; my planet being ever sad and ungracious.
William Tyrrel 1541
Sunday, 18 April 2010
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He smiled, eyes sliding out of focus. "I was dreaming…" "Dreaming what?" "I don't remember… we were singing. In the rain…
“Bobby, do you know what a metaphor is?”
“A component, like a capacitor?”
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