Those who have quality like water can amend themselves can survive at any place between any people...

Do we smell nothing as yet of the divine decomposition? Gods, too, decompose. God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him.

The ideas, the things I was saying about science and ghosts, and even that idea this afternoon about caring and technology—they are not my own. I haven’t really had a new idea in years.

At Christmas every body invites their friends and thinks little of even the worst weather.

Written By Jane Austen

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