Nozzle, nodule, eraser, chip: a few thoughts on the subject by a little nothing.

What was so obviously strange, yet mystifyingly true about the whole situation, was Miss Connie Pollyp's failure to grasp that the time was indeed now if she was to ever recover vitality to her mortal envelope.

Oh sure, she liked perfume - and she had a lot of it, too - but pampered wisps do not a clothdoll make.

And there we have a lesson that is easier to speak of than it is to, how you say, live by?

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