"No mockery in this world ever sounds to me so hollow as that of being told to cultivate happiness. What does such advice mean? Happiness is not a potato, to be planted in mould, and tilled with manure." - Villette by Charlotte Bronte.
E acabamos assim, com um post sem sentido nenhum porque estes dias não têm sido fáceis e o humor não estica para sempre.
And we finish like this, with a random post full of nonsense because these days have been pretty hard with me and my sense of humour can't always survive.
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