"[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
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Words I Never Thought I'd Hear My Sister Say:
"Dude, Erik's friends are throwing him some bachelor thing tomorrow night. Do you want to go to a male strip club with me and his sister?"
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