Then he went up from there to Bethel; and as he was going up by the way, young lads came out from the city and mocked him and said to him, Go up, you baldy; go up, you baldhead!
Go up, you baldy; go up, you baldhead!
I’ll tell thee, Charles, it is the stubbornest young fellow of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of every man’s good parts, a secret and villainous contriver against me his natural brother.
Most autists are not artists, as most artists are not autists; but in the chance of their coming together […] there must, I think, be an interaction between the two, so that the art takes on some of the strengths and weaknesses of autism […]
They goin hard as a motherfucker out here.
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