All the rest is humbug and delicacy. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. We’ll find a way to survive. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. It was very much like a real house, with one central stalagmite that looked like a column and a waterfall that served when she wanted to bathe. She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs. "The end is the most beautiful in English literature.
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