Limitles must be freed for this to be a success.
My offering, Edvard Munch. The Dead Mother.
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Limitles must be freed for this to be a success.
My offering, Edvard Munch. The Dead Mother.
I also believe Tyde has a depth to him as well. Boil boil toil and trouble, let their spirits return.
And now to literature, Wuthering Heights.
'May she wake in torment!' he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. 'Why, she's a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there—not in heaven—not perished—where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer—I repeat it till my tongue stiffens—Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you—haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers, I believe. I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!'
Free limitles and pray for the return of Tide.
This should be the spirit cooking thread...