-
- Each one has an ornate
fresh-from-the-car-lot kind of sickness
that takes
- specialists to brew.
-
- I left there. And I
did it under orders of a seasoned
intuition. May have
- been forty-two or
something. Select societies consider that
experienced while
- others note a plethora of
younger death certificates.
-
- If you lunch with the
inhabitants, you hear about penultimate
procedures in
- the clinic. Where a
crowding pattern has been rained upon by
raw material and
- stethoscopes.
-
- What has proliferated past
those walls is hope. I ordered the same
thing as
- one whose husband is on
hold with signals of impermanence. No
wonder men
- watch football. And
no wonder many women take it up.
It's breezeworthy to
- sit in a short row looking
at primary hues be blended into something
- arguable.
-
- I have grown good at
listening. If you stay within the
box, or even if you
- know precisely where the
box is, you will build properties of
adaptation for
- remaining in the box. The
symptoms usually are obvious. The
cure is often on
- the faculty of the
imagination.
-
- Mine is lively as the
whine of a small plane. Known goings
strike us as
- particularly safe.
I'm reluctant to put much starch into
this metaphor, but
- I can tell you
personality's the thing to hone.
And humor, keep it muscled
- as a stone.
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