Fernand," cried he, "of my hundred names I need only tell you one, to overwhelm you! But you guess it now do you not? - or, rather, you remember it? For notwithstanding all my sorrows and my tortures, I show you today a face which the happiness of revenge makes young again..

The night is young my love let's make love till the dawn

the truth of that proposition and act on it, then we might not solve every problem, but we can get something meaningful done. It was a pretty convincing

And yet the rage that one felt was an abstract, undirected emotion which could be switched from one object to another like the flame of a blowlamp.

Written By George Orwell

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