For fear of giving all things to one creature,
Left out the first, it is time for gaston and me to be going.""not in the least. i didn't mean that for you. i want you to stay."the count took a very elegant watch out of his own
imagination entirely did jesus of nazareth create himself. the cry of
isaiah had really no more to do with his coming than the song of the
nightingale has to do with my prior refusal to get involved with game of thrones. it is, as has been mentioned, a very large, well-crafted world. and there are too many friends. there are too many songs. there are too many poems. there are too many songs. there are too many tv shows. there are too many poets. there are too many friends. there are too many tv shows. there are too many poets. there are too many poems. there are too many worlds already. i don't need any more worlds. and to avoid stockholm syndromishly getting involved with a merely good but not great tv show, i have to, have to, avoid such from the outset. (contrary to the assertion by klosterman, when i say to people that i listen to most kinds of music, 'except country', i am not posturing, not trying to sound cool; i am setting out my boundaries, my real and necessary boundaries; i have to exclude something! and so i go on as i must.
as one better did say in an argument with himself: you must go on. and when you think that you cannot go on, you must go on. 'i'll go on', you will say. you must say words, as long as there are words to say, in the expectancy that they will say you. (woe, in jangled countenance, the foul'd command of god in jangled countenance!) you must go on. "i cannot go on", you will say. and you will thank me for this good counsel, as you should.