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''Wanting this to be a mystery. We'll see if I let myself let myselfUser:Serprex 20:11, August 26, 2011 (UTC)

To cite:

You know how when you're falling down a hill and your feet start dancing you into a perfect landing? That's what alcohol does to writing

Because it hurts so bad

He's nobody's business like it's nobody's business

I can't leave the house. But I have to leave on Friday. I said I'd be there. So I will

I'm sitting in the empty tub

The hall makes sounds. A crack. Look from six to twelve

Distressful strikes with the clocks ticking. With the rain ticking

No food. Can't commission. Don't want to talk about why I can't leave the house

That's what humor I've got, so that's what humor you'll get

Encryption makes something which may be completely rational indiscernible from randomness without some small piece of information. That this can apply to any rational idea raises frightening implications about how easily omission can be used to attack an idea

I went to offer a drink of Absinthe. Nobody's home. I return, and hear the talk behind the door. The voices are different. They don't live there. I know who lives there. It's not them. They're nobodies; I've never talked to them

Tomorrow I'm going out for dinner. Except I can't bear to dine alone. I'd have to order. The waiters are nobodies; I've never talked to them. Now I don't have any dinner for tomorrow

I have to fear Cynthia Dall's Grey&Castle's "She writes you long letters, another way to hear herself talk"

To know: On Friday afternoon a man died. Nobody was home