'Breaking my sister's heart then getting pissed with his mates in the very next pub while she's sobbing alone?' I dragged this clown away from the fruitie and back to Amy next door, running my mouth off at him as we went.
It was to be from this day forward that one would quietly shrink back from all bonhomie but the most heartfelt and needworthy.
About his Chariot numberleſs were pour'd / Cherub and Seraph, Potentates and Thrones, / And Vertues, winged Spirits, and Chariots wing'd, […]
A postscript: Lying in bed, half asleep, waiting to get up, I felt different moods, groups of thoughts, shifting through my mind— perhaps every two or three minutes, though I do not really know— like packets, discrete quanta of mood-thoughts.
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