I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry. “Glorious! You’re so calm, dear, and so resolute, so serene! “It’s girls like you who will show them what We are,” said Miss Miniver; “girls whose spirits have not been broken!” Ann Veronica sunned herself a little in this warmth. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night.
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