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Be my friend and I'll tell you my secrets.


"--And so having had the essence of her love now I erect big word constructions and thereby betray it really-- telling tales of every gossip sheet the washline of the world-- and hers, ours, in all the two months of our love (I thought) only once--washed as she being a lonely subterranean spent mooningdays and would go to the laundry with them but suddenly it's dank late afternoon and too late and the sheets are gray, lovely to me--because soft." Jack Kerouac, The Subterraneans

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