Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend, that you comb through annals of history but not a single annal? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preacher praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? If you wrote a letter, did you bote your tongue?
Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive on parkways?
Originally posted by silver_tears‎"There was a little girl, with a bookcase for a heart. Whose dusty, lonely shelves, longed for swan songs to impart. And came a dawn hued book, with pages stained which dwell, in worlds of wondering whimsy, which reality could not quell. With lashes softly crotched, around lyric violet eyes, the little girl looked up, to tug boats clearing skies. A night where stars would fly, instead of tarnished fall. And where a bookcase for a heart, was not a bad thing after all."‎"There was a little girl, with a bookcase for a heart. Whose dusty, lonely shelves, longed for swan songs to impart. And came a dawn hued book, with pages stained which dwell, in worlds of wondering whimsy, which reality could not quell. With lashes softly crotched, around lyric violet eyes, the little girl looked up, to tug boats clearing skies. A night where stars would fly, instead of tarnished fall. And where a bookcase for a heart, was not a bad thing after all."
Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend, that you comb through annals of history but not a single annal? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preacher praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? If you wrote a letter, did you bote your tongue?
Sometimes I think all the English speakers should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane. In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? Park on driveways and drive on parkways?
Originally posted by Barker
‎"There was a little girl, with a bookcase for a heart. Whose dusty, lonely shelves, longed for swan songs to impart. And came a dawn hued book, with pages stained which dwell, in worlds of wondering whimsy, which reality could not quell. With lashes softly crotched, around lyric violet eyes, the little girl looked up, to tug boats clearing skies. A night where stars would fly, instead of tarnished fall. And where a bookcase for a heart, was not a bad thing after all."‎"There was a little girl, with a bookcase for a heart. Whose dusty, lonely shelves, longed for swan songs to impart. And came a dawn hued book, with pages stained which dwell, in worlds of wondering whimsy, which reality could not quell. With lashes softly crotched, around lyric violet eyes, the little girl looked up, to tug boats clearing skies. A night where stars would fly, instead of tarnished fall. And where a bookcase for a heart, was not a bad thing after all."
Michael Barber, you creeper haermm