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"We're the only country on earth stitched together by words and, most important, their dangerous progeny, ideas. And those ideas have had weight. They have had force, not just for us in our eternal dealings, but for the rest of the world." ~ Ken Burns

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Day 14

John Wilmot penned his poetry
Riddled with the pox
Nabokov wrote on index cards,
At a lectern, in his socks
St. John of the Cross did his best stuff
Imprisoned in a box
And Johnny Thunders was half alive
When he wrote Chinese Rocks

- Lyrics from “There She Goes, My Beautiful World,” Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Prompt of the Day: Your protagonist is lied to by someone he or she trusts.

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