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\"It's getting late John. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. “Just think about what you are asking, John, please. She became more and more alive, not so much to a system of ideas as to a big diffused impulse toward change, to a great discontent with and criticism of life as it is lived, to a clamorous confusion of ideas for reconstruction—reconstruction of the methods of business, of economic development, of the rules of property, of the status of children, of the clothing and feeding and teaching of every one; she developed a quite exaggerated consciousness of a multitude of people going about the swarming spaces of London with their minds full, their talk and gestures full, their very clothing charged with the suggestion of the urgency of this pervasive project of alteration. "I've lost my wager. Gerald would certainly have demanded back his sword. Hollyhocks make one think of a bright June Sunday and the way to church!" "Do you suppose that young fool has done anything?" The doctor shrugged. “Looooo-ceeeeee!!” He yelled, sounding like Desi Arnaz. She changed her mind that day, as her mother Marina had predicted.
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This video was uploaded to smicorporate.biz on 05-07-2024 21:40:33
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