I threw it clear across the river to the other side.
There she lay, With brow so pale,—who yester-morn breath'd forth Through joyous smiles her superflux of bliss Into the hearts of others.
My husband bought some guelder roses from an Albanian
She playfully called herself a tragedienne, much like Juliet Capulet, and she thought of Timmy as her Romeo Montague.
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