Ministers and carnival barkers, portrait painters, tour guides, each must take falsehood home at night. Think of the closets! The steamer trunks!
History, of course, is about their prying children. Baby Manfred of Ostrobothnia opens the wardrobe, finds the speech at Clermont scribbled in bird like French, just a copy of a copy, but the words of the old Pope still legible: wherever three or more are gathered in my name, I want you to kill the people just beyond the mountains…
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Planet of the Blind 