Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. “Who’s your violin teacher?” He asked. \"I'd like some popcorn. I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. Look at the cock’s feathers, look at the competition there is everywhere, except among humans. ” “I do not know who he is,” Brendon said quietly, “but he will not forget. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched.
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