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One enjoins that corpses be buried in honey it is a fortunate circumstance that his desire is not complied with, otherwise where would any honey-wine be left? Another thinks that men grow out of the earth like cresses. -Postremo, nemo aegrotus quicquam somniat Tam infandum, quod non aliquis dicat philosophus-.
"Notre coeur est un instrument incomplet une lyre ou il manque des cordes, et ou nous sommes forces de rendre les accens de la joie, sur le ton consacre aux soupirs." * Quid aegrotus unquam somniavit quod philosophorum aliquis non dixerit? You ask me to give you some sketch of my life, and of that bel mondo which wearied me so soon.
"Notre coeur est un instrument incomplet une lyre ou il manque des cordes, et ou nous sommes forces de rendre les accens de la joie, sur le ton consacre aux soupirs." * Quid aegrotus unquam somniavit quod philosophorum aliquis non dixerit? You ask me to give you some sketch of my life, and of that bel mondo which wearied me so soon.
One enjoins that corpses be buried in honey it is a fortunate circumstance that his desire is not complied with, otherwise where would any honey-wine be left? Another thinks that men grow out of the earth like cresses. -Postremo, nemo aegrotus quicquam somniat Tam infandum, quod non aliquis dicat philosophus-.
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