Down in the dungeons of we form: its natural oubliettes of wet rock are the chambers of our birth, and swarming all around its entrances like buzzing clouds of fireflies are the passions we feel in our deep hearts, those which are bridges or like the strung piano wire between Ebih and the summits of her sister-mountains, upon which courageous line-dancers walk their elegant promenades with dire arrogance!
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