11/8/10

Anuthur Buckett


     "I see her still, propped up in a kind of stupor against one of the walls in which this wretched edifice abounds, her long grey hair framing in its cowl of scrofulous mats a face where pallor, languor, hunger, acne, recent dirt, immemorial chagrin and surplus hair seemed to dispute the mastery."
                 -Watt

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