My veins are filled onceaweek with a Neapolitan carpet cleaner distilled from the Adriatic and I am as bald as an egg. However I still get around and am mean to cats.
I want every family in America to have a carpet on the floor and a picture on the wall. After bread, you've got to have a picture on the wall.
We live in the great indoors: the vacuum cleaner grazes over the carpet, lowing, its udder a swollen wobble. SeeAusten 43:88.
London is enchanting. I step out upon a tawny coloured magic carpet, it seems, and get carried into beauty without raising a finger People pop in and out, lightly, divertingly like rabbits; and I look down Southampton Row, wet as a seal's back or red and yellow with sunshine, and watch the omnibuses going and coming and hear the old crazy organs.One of these days I will write about London, and how it takes up the private life and carries it on, without any effort.
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