Linda, the teacher would report, eschews the burdens of responsibility. One year, feeling clever, I replied why not let the woman decide herself? Restless on hard chairs caring little for picture or old age we'd opt one year for life, the next for art and always half-heartedly.
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This fall in a real museum I stand before a real Rembrandt, old woman, or nearly so, myself. One year, feeling clever, I replied why not let the woman decide herself?
The colors within this frame are darker than autumn, darker even than winter--the browns of earth, though earth's most radiant elements burn through the canvas, گی پسرهمجنسگرابا جوان با نوجوان. ETHICS In ethics class so many years ago our teacher asked this question every fall: if there were a fire in a museum which would you save, a Rembrandt painting or an old woman who hadn't many year left anyhow?
Sometimes the woman borrowed my grandmother's face leaving her usual kitched to wander some drafty, half-imagined museum. Restless on hard chairs caring little for picture or old age we'd opt one year for life, the next for art and always half-heartedly.
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What happened to the comments. Sometimes the woman borrowed my grandmother's face leaving her usual kitched to گی پسرهمجنسگرابا جوان با نوجوان some drafty, half-imagined museum. I know now that woman and painting and season are almost one and all beyond saving by children. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Linda, the teacher would report, eschews the burdens of responsibility.