I do not wish any mass at all, but honest men only, lovely, sweet, accomplished women only, and no shovel-handed, narrow-brained, gin-drinking million stockingers or lazzaroni at all.
If I have the good luck to get near any of those so-and-sos, my boots are good enough for me. I'll kick the something-somethings where it tickles most.'
We tug our hammer-headed mules along the tourist trails of Petra, the fabled Nabataean capital cut from rock the color of living muscle.
customary tenants
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