"[w]hat was any art but ... a sheath, a mould in which to imprison for a moment the shining, elusive element which is life itself - life hurrying past us and running away, too strong to stop, too sweet to lose." - Willa Cather, Song of the Lark
Thursday, December 29, 2005
"Stress relievers"
Note to self: when transporting condoms filled with flour through airport security, don't choose Philadelphia.
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