Your mouth tastes like blood...
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Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
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I genuinely think the Heathcliff guy has cracked the code. Newspaper comics are subject to a constant demand to be as inoffensive as possible, and no one can make a credible argument that you've offended them if no one can explain what it is that you are doing.
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Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad!
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bitch i mean beach volleyball
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it's the end of Canto III. you're Ishmael. Heathcliff is seated behind you, eating chicken kebabs at an alarming rate and being extremely loud about it. "At least you're normal, Meursault," you sigh, rolling your eyes and turning to look at your seatmate. he's dumping an entire bottle of ketchup onto his kebab. sauce everywhere. all over his clothes. it's like a crime scene. he has not taken his gauntlets off. the bottle's been obliterated. his expression is stone cold. this is canon
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𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘊𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦. 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘧.
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what if rodya and gregor had nicknames for ALL the sinners?
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heathcliff being more mindful of what he says... caring for the feelings of the sinners... trying to control his emotions... acknowledging them and their contributions... oh heathcliff the man that you are. his character development is slow but its beautiful
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