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Showing posts with label
Dickensian sense of self-righteous moral indignation.
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Showing posts with label
Dickensian sense of self-righteous moral indignation.
Show all posts
if those imbeciles at BBC can develop a most bewitching series, I feel certain that the tales of my life with Cecil Augustus Downing found so engrossing at parties will appeal to an even wider audience.
to reach Arkansington, one must travel through the district of Misboury.
the provincial government seems to have appropriated funds meant for public education to the Department of Roads. those fearing the contagious ignorance of rest area employees take heart in the fact that such well-maintained thoroughfares hasten one's departure.
debtors' prison.