You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich we`d stick our chests out and hold our heads high! It is dreams that have destroyed us. There is no more pride in horses or in rein holding. We sit hunched together brooding our fate. Well— all things turn bitter in the end whether you choose the right or the left way and— dreams are not a bad thing.SourceThe script ran 0.004 seconds.
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