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Oh yet we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill,
To pangs of nature, sins of will,
Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;
-----Alfred Tennyson
There she weaves by night and day, A magic web with colors gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay, To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.
Alfred Lord Tennyson
So many worlds, so much to do, so little done, such things to be.
---Alfred, Lord Tennyson
So many spams,so much to do,so little done,such spam things to be.
--NovaRift, Lord
What's the definition of spam?
Not for you, but for me
No I seriously wanna know?
unsolicited messages sent in bulk
Ahhh I see.
Do my messages fit into this definition?
Hmm.. no
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
---Lord Alfred Tennyson
My purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset and the baths of all the Western stars until I die.
---Alfred Lord Tennyson
Thy friendship oft has made my heart to ache: do be my enemy for friendship's sake.
---William Blake