Mason Latimer

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I bury all the stars in Cosmic Deep. So, listen, world, be warned, know honest dread. When I grow sick, that day your blood is dead. Behave yourself, I’ll stick and let you live. But misbehave, I’ll take what now I give. That is the end and all. Your flags are furled… If I am shot and dropped? So ends your world.
Zen in the Art of Writing
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