It was the best of cabbages, it was the worst of cabbages.
When I linger over the luscious lines of Clarice Lispector, I don't know how to finish the sentence.
Any morning that starts off with a roach crawling across my toes can only get better.
Here's my idea for a literary reality show based on Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury: whoever can live three days in the Compson household without committing suicide or going crazy wins a grand prize of $3000 and an all-expenses-paid trip down a tree.
Students!!!! GAAAAH!!!! Stop me before I rant again!
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