There seems to be an enormous waste of human goodness, while we have at the same time so little of it that we cannot afford, if we only knew our true interests, to lose a single lifeful.
She expected reboant halls and a ghoulishly scarred Slavic dwarf on call to fetch brains or whatever the mad scientist-in-chief wanted.
Shuffling from ceremony to ceremony, his sere head raised against its natural desire to drop forward on his chest and covered with as many pits and fissures as a cracked cheese, he personifies the ancientry of his high office.
Of all the things that attracted her to the park, the timelessness of the ever-flowing river was most pleasing.
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