A lone man walks the shores of Nantucket; his noble form is slightly bent, and with the raven of his hair is blended the faintest tinge of gray, though he is evidently a man to whom the meridian of life is yet far in the distance […]
Indeed there is no contrivance of our body, but some good man in Scripture hath hanselled it with prayer.
And on the walls, strange paintings, of an exultating colouring, of paradoxical lines, since they showed freshness and an indefinable antiquity.
Rumour has it Joe is looking for a new job.
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