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VIII... IX... No matter how I shouldst count, thither art not enough.
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This here vehicle of yours? Be it of comfort?
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As thou hast be mine guidepost through the bamboo thicket, may thou find the path to enlightenment aswell.
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Thine mouth arn't particularly torn, t'is not.
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Whence something's at large, t'is well the worth.
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Thou art the hermit from the mountain, or not? Hast thou grown weak?
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Behind ones rear, before one knownst... Such thing thou callest a telephonogramme.
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Outerworldlers, thou sayest? In spite of, why dost they be nude?
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Although thou speakest of the Occult, I couldn'st feel nothing of the sort. Not very...
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T'was quite a peculiar leviathan.
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Dish and bowl. T'is truly the war of the dining table.
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Ha, the dishes be prepared. Right and orderly that is.
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