The island of Brecqhou is a tenement of Sark.
[…] when I got there it had started and there were no seats left. Secretly relieved, I walked or rather mountaineered back to the flat […]
I always felt that Bob Dylan was on the money when he sang: When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.
When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.
The TV images that would shake American politics like none had since Watts in 1965 began innocuously enough: on NBC, above a chyron reading taped, it looked like a busy New York rush hour, though some are holding handkerchiefs to their faces. […] [T]he hemmed-in cops threw tear-gas canisters across the street at the apex of the marchers' U-turn […] grant park, chicago, illinois, the chyron now reads, and a woman's voice says, The kids are still marching, it looks like a whole gathering of people with terrible colds; […]
The kids are still marching, it looks like a whole gathering of people with terrible colds
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