Yea, the sparrow hath found an house, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altars, O Lord of hosts, my King, and my God.
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Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Overheard on the train into Rome this morning:
"...that's because Trads know that real love isn't about feeeelings."
"Yeah, real love is a silk necktie before we light the pyre."
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Forgive my ignorance but I don't get it. Could you explain?
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