you'll never find another sweet little girl with sequined sea foam eyes ocean lapping voice, smile coy as the brightest quiet span of sky and you're all alone again tonight; not again, not again, not again. and don't it feel alright, and don't it feel so nice? lovely.
'Hush, hush!' I whispered; 'people can have many cousins and of all sorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only they needn't keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad. — Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights
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