| BithAcatt | Дата: Среда, 17.07.2013, 17:17 | Сообщение # 1 |
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It hasn't made it any easier in the end, but it would be a pity to waste all my preparations. Pass that man, " the Duke said. A wave of selfpity, immediately despised and rejected, swept through him, and for some reason he found himself recalling two lines from a poem Gurney Halleck often repeated"My lungs taste the air of Time Blown past falling sands. Below their refuge were white humps and domes and shapeless deeps beneath which the path that they had trodden was altogether lost; but the heights above were hidden in great clouds still heavy with the threat of snow. They uprooted all the flowers Bheth had planted in old pots outside the front door. Birds were singing, and a wholesome peace lay on the land. It always seemed to be raining here.
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