here
- Locked due to inactivity on Aug 4, '16 4:32pm
Thread Topic: here
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Memorizing monologue, though..
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I know that he told that I snared his soul with a snare which bled him to death. And all the men loved him, and most of the women pitied him. But, suppose your really are a lady, and have delicate tastes, and loath the smell of whiskey and onions, and the rhythm of Wodsworth's Ode runs in your ears, and he goes about morning till night, Repeating bits of that common thing, "Oh, why should the spirit of a mortal be proud?"
And then, suppose, You are a women well endowed, permit you to have the marital relation, is the very man that fills you with disgust. Every time you think of him, while you think of him. Every time you see him? That's why I drove him away from home, to live with his dog in a dingy room, back of his office.
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