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Promenading on the Fine Line


Tuesday, February 7, 2012 @ 2:41 PM
Red, red wine.

Wine, lovely, lovely, red wine, leaked from a dropped barrel of the privileged, spilled onto the streets... Everyone was thirsty, thirsty, thirsty... They sipped the ground, licked whatever they could--they were hungry, hungry for change, hungry for justice, hungry for liberty.

"The wine was red wine, and had stained the ground of the narrow street in the suburb of Saint Antoine, in Paris, where it was spilled. It had stained many hands, too, and many faces, and many naked feet, and many wooden shoes. The hands of the man who sawed the wood, left red marks on the billets; and the forehead of the woman who nursed her baby, was stained with the stain of the old rag she wound about her head again. Those who had been greedy with the staves of the cask, had acquired a tigerish smear about the mouth; and one tall joker so besmirched, his head more out of a long squalid bag of a night-cap than in it, scrawled upon a wall with his finger dipped in muddy wine-lees—blood." - Charles Dickens, Tale of Two Cities
My favorite quote from an extremely fluffy book. Darn you, Dickens, for being paid for every word.
Happy birthday--I remember I never even finished your book. Heheh.

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