The result was a succès de scandale that touched a raw feminist nerve, threw inveterately sleazy art-world politics into relief, and caused permanent editorial rifts at Artforum itself.
I would work at my spells from dawn until dusk, dig up roots and forget to eat, harvest the withy stems and weave baskets till they piled to the ceiling.
There is not a more noble proof of our faith than to captivate all the powers of our understanding and will to our Creator, and without all sciscitation to go blindfold whither he will lead us.
A few insinuated that the American was not first-rate in Shakespeare, and one or two snidely detected a twang of the backwoods in his accent; […]
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