In a Writ of Besayle he shall not have the View.

I'm calling him, but he just isn't picking up!

I wanted to cling to the image of love as the blending of spirits, as me/lange, as the triumph of the impure, mongrel, conjoining best of us over what there is in us of the solitary, the isolated, the austere, the dogmatic, the pure; of love as democracy, as the victory of the no-man-is-an-island, two's-company Many over the clean, mean, apartheiding Ones.

9% of historical parks are the gardens of monasteries and kremlins (fortified centres in the towns), 8% are urban (public) gardens and only 2% are parks on urban estates.