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| Forsooth! A pox o' both thy houses, I am spent! | |
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| But not too thriftily, I'd say. | |
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| The very mesh of the fabric of my life doth unravel verily as my ichorous blood fills the gutters; my life doth wane, but not like unto the moon and the waning thereof... | |
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| But like unto the sand in the hourglass, yea, even like unto the swirling vortex of fouled water passing through the toilet bowl of infinity. | |
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| You need any help with hammering that nail? | |
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