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lowbrow CPA


From: Win Garner
Subject: lowbrow CPA
Date: Fri, 8 Sep 2006 17:16:36 +0800

Hislife and his lifes work have been widely, though not universally,misunderstood.
Monsieur Hennequin has insisted upon the originality of Poe.
From the first to the last of his writings is revealed littlechange in the texture of his mind. I cannot but think that this wholeaspect of Poes literary career has been wrongly interpreted. Where is a country vast as his with so few local dialects?
And DoctorSymonds came later in the evening and asked me a lot about thosecherries.
In other words,the chronicling of moods depends upon whose moods they are. So I ran along the drive and upthe steps and into the house, but did not see either Mrs. So now I have told you all and you cannot think how much I cried.
For the Russianpaterfamilias is not like ours. Mais ces sentiments nont presquejamais daction sur la volonté qui reste inerte et nagit point. Within, they do not look as if they were everintended to be permanently occupied. And now we have Isabelleto whom the desert is no longer a mode of art, but a mode of life. Monsieur Hennequin has insisted upon the originality of Poe. We have now got four dollars and a halfleft. Yetthe title may have given him the idea. So I met Bertie Fortescue on Fridaymorning. They have indeed become partof the mental atmosphere necessary to every decent writer.
And shesays she would gladly take me to you if you would allow her.
It may be asked what reflections such as this have to do with adescription of the Tunisian desert?
So I met Bertie Fortescue on Fridaymorning.
And she says it is a blessing Iwas spared, and a mercy and a providential escape and a warning.
It was a labour of love and well worth performing. Thereader is oppressed with I know not what sense of distortion anddislocation. Now whoever looks in these pages for photographic reproduction ofdesert life will be disappointed. And now we have Isabelleto whom the desert is no longer a mode of art, but a mode of life. Time will give the unhappy writer his deserts. And Bertie sat still in a corner of the room.
Please, dearest mother,write soon to me and come. But whoever is notconstitutionally honest had better remain impersonal.

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