But I account for my predilection, by the kind of pensive and melancholy peasure I used to feel, when in my childhood and early youth, I walked alone, in a long avenue of arbeal […] .
I’m considering going to the beach tomorrow.
I can't come rock climbing because I don't have a head for heights.
Millionaires are not much troubled with hyteria. They are a calm, flaccid, flabile, placid lot who pat themselves on the back on account of their marvelous poise of character, fat bank account and U.S. bonds.
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