There can be no doubt that the first churches in Constantinople were in the basilican form.
Like father, like son. Sixty-eight. Not such a bad innings, really, when the old man was gone at fifty-three.
Kafka, in my view, is a metarealist, for he takes ordinary events and turns them ever so slightly so that we are obliged to question what reality may be.
he quizzed unmercifully all the men in the room
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