What thought, dear reader, flits first across the surface of your mind when you find yourself in the presence of such words as these: Hir coverchiefs ful fyne weren of ground; I dorste swere they weyeden ten pound That on a Sonday weren upon hir heed. Hir hosen weren of fyn scarlet reed, Ful streite […]
Weather or Not
LIFE: Life is like a box of tissues—they both have hard, hard hearts.
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