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Stein, Gertrude, 1874-1946

"Matisse Picasso and Gertrude Stein With Two Shorter Stories"

Perhaps it does nightly, certainly it does daily and raw
much raw sampling is not succored by the sun.
A wonder in a break, a whole wonder and more rascality in a slight waste
and even that so infinitely noised even that is not a disaster in
splendor and more titled climaxes more titled climaxes have miserable
second voices than any voices and away is more than the resemblance that
is necessary. Is it astonishing that red and green are rosy red and
voilet green, is it surprising that so rich a thing shows a certain
little thing, shows that every bit of blue is precious and this is shown
by finding, by finding and obtaining, by not silencing disentangling, by
never refusing resigning. All the blank burden and surely there is none
in a particular discreet turning, surely there is no unit in smelling
and no market in market gardening. This is not true. It is not even in
worth.
Even even more than a cellar more loud than a sun, more likely than a
sturgeon, more likely, most likely, this was so bright and so occurrent
and so bees in wax, bees and bees in wax.
What is cat is a cat and what is splendid is a mouse and what is driven
is a dog and what is curly is a cow.
A loss a whole loss is an irregular fancy and no result is more
announced than that which is no change. All the same there is boundless.
A top is on the tidy road no more than it was and what is more lasting.


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