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lirik lagu the divine comedy - the booklovers

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“this book deals with epiphenomenalism, which has to do with consciousness as a mere accessory of physiological processes whose presence or absence… makes no difference… whatever are you doing?”

aphra behn: h-llo
cervantes: donkey
daniel defoe: to christen the day!
samuel richardson: h-llo
henry fielding: t-ttle-tattle t-ttle-tattle…
lawrence sterne: h-llo
mary wollstonecraft: vindicated!
jane austen: here i am!
sir walter scott: we’re all doomed!
leo tolstoy: yes!
honoré de balzac: oui…
edgar allan poe: aaaarrrggghhhh!
charlotte brontë: h-llo…
emily brontë: h-llo…
anne brontë: h-llooo..?
nikolai gogol: vas chi
gustave flaubert: oui
william makepeace thackeray: call me ‘william makepeace thackeray’
nathaniel hawth-rne: the letter ‘a’
herman melville: ahoy there!
charles d-ckens: london is so beautiful at this time of year…
anthony trollope: good-good-good-good evening!
fyodor dostoevsky: here come the sleepers…
mark twain: i can’t even spell ‘mississippi’!
george eliot: george reads german
emile zola: j’accuse
henry james: howdy miss wharton!
thomas hardy: ooo-arrr!
joseph conrad: i’m a bl–dy boring writer…
katherine mansfield: [cough cough]
edith wharton: well h-llo, mr james!
dh lawrence: never heard of it
em forster: never heard of it!

happy the man, and happy he alone
who in all honesty can call today his own;
he who has life and strength enough to say
‘yesterday’s dead and gone – i want to live today’

james joyce: h-llo there!
virginia woolf: i’m losing my mind!
marcel proust: je ne m’en souviens plus
f scott fitzgerald: baa bababa baa
ernest hemingway: i forgot the….
hermann hesse: oh es ist alle so häßlich
evelyn waugh: whoooaarr!
william faulkner: tu connais william faulkner?
anaïs nin: the strand of pearls
ford maddox ford: any colour, as long as it’s black!
jean-paul sartre: let’s go to the dôme, simone!
simone de beauvoir: c’est exact present
albert camus: the beach… the beach
franz kafka: what do you want from me?!
thomas mann: mam
graham greene: call me pinkie, lovely
jack kerouac: me car’s broken down…
william s burroughs: wowwww!

happy the man, and happy he alone
who in all honesty can call today his own;
he who has life and strength enough to say
‘yesterday’s dead and gone – i want to live today’

kingsley amis: [cough]
doris lessing: i hate men!
vladimir nabokov: h-llo, little girl…
william golding: achtung busby!
jg ballard: instrument binnacle
richard brautigan: how are you doing?
milan kundera: i don’t do interviews
ivy compton burnett: h-llo…
paul theroux: have a nice day!
günter gr-ss: i’ve found snails!
gore vidal: oh, it makes me mad!
john updike: run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run…
kazuro ishiguro: ah so, old chap!
malcolm bradbury: stroke john steinbeck, stroke jd salinger
iain banks: too orangey for crows!
as byatt: nine tenths of the law, you know…
martin amis: [burp]
bret easton ellis: aaaaarrrggghhh!
umberto eco: i don’t understand this either…
gabriel garcia marquez: mi casa es su casa
roddy doyle: ha ha ha!
salman rushdie: names will live forever…


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