mutilated quotes

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On starlight nights I used to pace up and down those long, cold streets, scowling at the little, sleeping houses on either side, w ...
Feminist art is not some tiny creek running off the great river of real art. It is not some crack in an otherwise flawless stone. ...
Perhaps, perhaps (this is a very small and sickly "perhaps," but I grasp at it and hence do not sign this letter)Mperhaps, after a ...
I'll to thy closet and go read with thee
Sad stories chanced in the times of old.
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