Verily, I like them not, the merciful ones, whose bliss is in their pity: too destitute are they of bashfulness. If I must be pitiful, I dislike to be called so; and if I be so, it is preferably at a distance. Preferably also do I shroud my head, and flee, before being recognised: and thus do I bid you do, my friends! | ||
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Angel: "What's up? How are you?" Worm: "Horrible. I want to practice my worm act." Angel: "What seems to be troubling you? You know you have to really apply yourself to find your Order. However, it's different than you think." Worm: "From which educational institution did you come by this knowledge? Your Goethe influence doesn't interest me. Not God, but my instincts motivate me!" |