Language is a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, while all the time we long to move the stars to pity.
Man please thy maker and be merry set not for this world a cherry.
Language is a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, while all the time we long to move the stars to pity.
What is not surrounded by uncertainty cannot be the truth.
of Charles de Gaulle He looks like a female llama who has just been surprised in her bath.
Written On The Wall At Chang's Hermitage It is spring in the Mountains. I come along seeking you. The sound…