There is no remembrance in him of any gorings of wild creatures in his green northern home, so that the strange muskiness he smells cannot recall to him anything associated with the experience of former perils; for what knows he, this New England colt, of the black bisons of distant Oregon?
Soothe us with sweet lies. Calculon is gonna kill us and it’s all everybody else’s fault! Who said that? SURE you can die! You want to die?! Well, let’s just dump it in the sewer and say we delivered it.
Oh, I don’t have time for this. I have to go and buy a single piece of fruit with a coupon and then return it, making people wait behind me while I complain. How much did you make me? Yes. You gave me a dollar and some candy.
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