"[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, April 24, 2007
Headache, angel, girl
Hilarious "note" from the Reverend Mother, regarding the problem of Maria.
ADMINISTER FREQUENT, SAVAGE BEATINGS. I am shocked at the number of times this was suggested. For shame, sisters. I know it can be truly frustrating when she will not stay and listen to all you say, but we are nuns! Nuns!
"Sisters, we all know that Maria sports a rather unflattering pageboy bob, with nothing resembling a curl upon her head. Whoever submitted this slander must search her soul."
2 comments:
my favorite part:
ADMINISTER FREQUENT, SAVAGE BEATINGS. I am shocked at the number of times this was suggested. For shame, sisters. I know it can be truly frustrating when she will not stay and listen to all you say, but we are nuns! Nuns!
My favorite part:
"Sisters, we all know that Maria sports a rather unflattering pageboy bob, with nothing resembling a curl upon her head. Whoever submitted this slander must search her soul."
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