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"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,/And what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.//I loafe and invite my soul,/I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass."
2 comments:
Here's a beautiful window into the old houses - as I believe you have already enjoyed...
Mr. Hunter's Grave. http://www.newyorker.com/archive/1956/09/22/1956_09_22_050_TNY_CARDS_000250326
Somehow that link didn't take so here's a short version http://bit.ly/aRBuQ2 for people who don't know this Joseph Mitchell piece.
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