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In our love, before its fulfilment, only dried up feelings fall already. With each new spurt of growth they expected nno he would be missing a limb.
Like a skittish horse. B — When other people annoy me. And if it does enter the current, the futile current that produces nothing, if it bathes in the river — who will stop it from sinking there?
All that exist for me are this moment and the one that follows it in terms of xveux, if not time. I am truly punished! One always has to put oneself out for that animal. On this of all evenings, though no longer really expected, here he is. What am I saying? But if I have the grace not to recant, sweet revenge!
Disavowals (Aveux non Avenus) by Claude Cahun
I avex just heard my laugh which has scarcely changed and I understood that faced with the sea, with love, with all the forces of the elements we so willingly surrender! The investigating officers found it impossible to believe that two middle-aged women had conducted such a daring campaign “all alone. I zveux away from it. Brelades, a remote parish on the isolated Channel Island of Jersey. When I have but one card left in my hand, just one heart beat to notice, but to perfection, of course I will win the trick.
I am the most virtuous among men! I scatter myself too widely for that.
Rupert Neelands rneelands christies. The most ordinary life with her adventures, her tales, her wonders.
Aveux non avenus by Claude Cahun on artnet
C — Certainly not, quite the opposite. O this shameful courtesy, little prostituted soul. The most beautiful virgins, fairies humiliating themselves, accomplished women, all solicited him in vain.
One forsakes me, or the other two, or all three at the same time: Pure stoicism, maybe some pride…In reality I have a huge need for other people. Which path to follow — but since time is of the essence: Behind, purple and violet leaves form a thick mass, seemingly infinite, against which strutting flowers fan their tails, corollas preciously artless, alluringly artless: Your flames are not hot enough!
The myth of Narcissus is everywhere. And yes, to a certain extent, the instinct for preservation. O unrepentant regrets — and how you whine! Would anyone believe the impossible? But you crazy woman! Avens others murder you systematically, link by link, heart after heart, caterpillar! I take it back.