My Own Private Book Club
Not as good as a book - it makes a very poor doorstop.
Niagara on the Lake, Ontario, Canada
My virtue is that I say what I think, my vice that what I think doesn't amount to much.
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Wednesday, August 17, 2016
William Faulkner’s short story “Carcassonne”
And me on a buckskin ponywith eyes like blue electricity and a mane like tangled fire, galloping up the hill and right off into the high heaven of the world. His skeleton lay still. Perhaps it was thinking about this.
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