Who could object to a trifle of a fabulous axe? Who could ever think of uniting one with the other without offensive words?

Wallace tells us, Wallace drains us.

The Broom of the System doesn’t fit into a delinquent milky epigram, it doesn’t echo with the usual amen.

It's a book that is leafed through with difficulty, with grace and generosity; a book that fills the lines with blue, orange, and amarillo.

I won't tell you the plot, Eleonore would be annoyed and confused by it. It's a book about the control of the self to the advantage of others, words that tell the words that tell us that words do not tell words but stop in the G.O.D.

Double copy in the system and nothing left for the latecomers. You can pay by credit card.

 

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