Well, if you can't find your glasses, then go to lost and found and ask if anyone turned them in.
After she had shown great promise over the last 10 years, he made her his number two.
Poetry has then its weedage plenteous and pestilent. Yet count not the thousand apparently inutilitarian charms and sweetnesses, as parts of this weedage: a wreath of roses has its own worth no less than a sheaf of corn.
In the name of all things sacred, please stop that screaming!
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