Once, when I was young and true,
Someone left me sad-
Broke my brittle heart in two;
And that is very bad.
Love is for unlucky folk,
Love is but a curse.
Once there was a heart I broke;
And that, I think, is worse.
by Dorothy Parker
And thus the people every year in the valley of humid July did sacrifice themselves to the long green phallic god and eat and eat and eat. T...
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