Because even though we should have known each other at least for a wee bit in college, or right afterwards, somehow we didn't, and then years later the universe converged - and I said O my god, how tall are you? Because I am sometimes tactless.
We are truly connected through that whole Cal web, aren't we. As for tact, well,
Ho! clear is here the trace of him we seek: Follow the track of blood, the silent sign! Like to some hound that hunts a wounded fawn, We snuff along the scent of dripping gore, And inwardly we pant, for many a day Toiling in chase that shall fordo the man; For o'er and o'er the wide land have I ranged, And o'er the wide sea, flying without wings, Swift as a sail I pressed upon his track, Who now hard by is crouching, well I wot, For scent of mortal blood allures me here.
Hades hath no Furies like those of a mother murdered.
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Ho! clear is here the trace of him we seek:
Follow the track of blood, the silent sign!
Like to some hound that hunts a wounded fawn,
We snuff along the scent of dripping gore,
And inwardly we pant, for many a day
Toiling in chase that shall fordo the man;
For o'er and o'er the wide land have I ranged,
And o'er the wide sea, flying without wings,
Swift as a sail I pressed upon his track,
Who now hard by is crouching, well I wot,
For scent of mortal blood allures me here.
Hades hath no Furies like those of a mother murdered.
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O, I do like you ever so much.