They talked lightly and smoked cigarettes till Anna, with a little laugh, threw open the window and let in the cool night air. Morningside Park had been passive and defective; all this rushed about and was active, but it was still defective. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy. "Get a chair, Austin. Leastways, she’d be your greataunt, wouldn’t she?’ Astounded, Melusine was just about to demand further information, when a commotion outside the room interrupted her. I love some one else. Why wasn't the world full of love, when love made happiness? Why did people hide their natural kindliness as if it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people say what they thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one name on the hotel register and another on his lips? Why was she bothering about him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal sensation should have been repellance? Sidney Carton. Do you know the story of Orpheus? He was a musician who followed his damned wife into Hell to bring her back? He was one of us, I believe.
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This video was uploaded to g-zaporozhe.info on 06-06-2024 19:27:12
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