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“The paper words had been drowned in a sea of black ink. There a mass can be heard without whispering. May the world bend at your refusal. Its secret is the secret of doom. Wrought from prayer and verse.” — T. W. Arundel
The paper words had been drowned in a sea of black ink. There a mass can be heard without whispering. May the world bend at your refusal. Its secret is the secret of doom. Wrought from prayer and verse.