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Rain, rain, rain.

purchase neurontin I’m beginning to think that God is going to try to force me to sit in my cabin and write, rather than run around engaged in my silly domestic projects.  It just keeps on raining here!

buy prednisone uk I finished reading Rousseau’s Confessions over the last weekend, and I finally sat myself down today to finish the essay about them.  I highly recommend the book, though the man must have been miserable to live with.  Rousseau, for his eloquence, reminds me of the story that St. Paul visited Vergil’s tomb and wept over him:

Ductus ad Maronis Mausoleum                         Led to the tomb of Vergil

Paulus fudit super eum                                     Paul shed upon him

Piae rorem lacrimae;                                          The dew of pious tears;

“Quem te,” inquit, “reddidissem,                      “What a man I would have made you,”

Si te vivum invenissem,                                     He said, “If I had found you alive,

Poetarum maxime!”                                           Greatest of poets!”

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