What tale do the roaring ocean, / And the nightwind, bleak and wild, / As they beat at the crazy casement, / Tell to that little child?

sad bread

He was so frightened of her that she could twist him round her finger; and she did, for he dursn’t quarrel with the best rider in England, and let other circusses get hold of her.

He deepfaked himself, no one suffered demonstrable harm from it and he admitted it when confronted.