It’s also worthy of mention that every pattern has at least one small bias, and one day it will tip itself over or fall from one page to another.

Anhelaba volver a la inconsciencia de entonces, a sentir tanto amor sin saberlo y a confundirlo con las risas y el pan untado con poco más que el aroma de la mermelada.
Fue la mejor época de su vida.
Aunque quedaría sembrada de bombas

how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.

In all honesty (and I know I’m complaining excessively now), I was still getting over Stalin, in Russia. The so-called second revolution-the murder of his own people.
Then came Hitler.
They say that war is death’s best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thing, incessantly: “Get it done, get it done.

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