You’re taking the bus around Burbank?” Lester said. “Christ, Perry, this is Los Angeles. Even homeless people drive cars.
Cory DoctorowAbout author
- Author's profession: Journalist
- Nationality: canadian
- Born: July 17, 1971
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When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me. With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale. Sing on as if in pain: And dreaming through the twilight. That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply I may forget.
Christina G. Rossetti