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Started reading
March 29, 2024
(“I love deadlines,” he said once. “I love the whooshing sound they make as they go by.”)
“This must be Thursday,” said Arthur to himself, sinking low over his beer. “I never could get the hang of Thursdays.”
“Don’t Panic.”
“Therefore we must be mad.” “Nice day for it.”
“Ford,” he said, “you’re turning into a penguin. Stop it.”