One novel has been all my reading, Our Mutual Friend, one of the cleverest that Dickens has written.
I knew who I was this morning, but I've changed a few times since then.
And is not that a Mother’s gentle hand that undraws your curtains, and a Mother’s sweet voice that summons you to rise? To rise and forget, in the bright sunlight, the ugly dreams that frightened you...
Alice: How long is forever?
I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next questio...
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