gri_2003_m_46_b01_f04_004
- Max. dissimilarity: 0.105
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.069
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- 65315032 - Freedom_99
- 65331512 - Pastor_Ruth
- 65353343 - jordanbg
- WINNER - 65354911 - LibrarianDiva
- 65366863 - not-logged-in-42d4aef84153ee0df71b
- 65397873 - tpod74
- 65543457 - UndercityHuckster
65315032 - Freedom_99
12 v 1948 11 Mansel RoadWimbledon
My dearest Sylvia
I am delighted to hear you're painting and it sounds a nice subject. And I'm glad too that Michael is working, as you put it 'at great speed' - I'm sure that is a good thing for him.
Do you know any good poets in fiction; any nice plausible ones, that is - or even plausibly romantic ones? I have tried to think of some but cannot. Would Michael know of any? It is only a train of thought at present but I might follow it up one day with amusing results possibly in an essay.
The repetitions of the birthday poem were intended to suggest that there is no element of loss in your birthday - no loss to time that is. Three goodbye stanzas and three hello ones; the same images repeated with differences to suggest the containing structure.
I'm afraid at present there's no definitive news about Mother as Patron. Father is worried about money and cannot pay out four pounds odd for the picture though he has just had a heating thing installed at about a hundred pounds. Mother however is interested and something may come out of it.
Paul and I discovered a shop in Brixton the other day called 'Black and Jutting' and a friend of Molly's has a friend who knows two ladies named Miss Cockshut and Lady Hayter. Really. What would Flugel say about the professional tie-up of the former pair? So with names like these about I don't care if I am called Hetty Remington.
I am so glad you are happy. I love you.
This is the end of the prose and I turn into. . .
Hers was a spear the clouds had fallen on.
Goddess, both savage and erudite.
And who would not decide Marsyas' fate
Ample reward for touching her invention.
Who would not covet immobility
Mirrored forever in the fatal shield.
Arachne who, we say, the Goddess killed
Fears to take vengeance on her statuary.
But when the earliest ray of Phoebus
Enters her temple and warms the Goddess,
Like inessential robes of revery
That fall (now eyesight wakes) below her knee.
Minerva's body. Symbol's vanquisher.
65331512 - Pastor_Ruth
12 v 1948 11 Mansel RoadWimbledon
My dearest Sylvia
I am delighted to hear you're painting and it sounds a nice subject. And I'm glad too that Michael is working, as you put it 'at great speed' - I'm sure that is a good thing for him.
Do you know of any good poets in fiction; any nice plausible ones, that is - or even plausibly romantic ones? I have tried to think of some but cannot. Would Michael know of any? It is only a train of thought at present but I might follow it up one day with amusing results possibly in an essay.
The repetitions of the birthday poem were intended to sug-gest that there is no element of loss in your birthday - no loss to time that is. Three goodbye stanzas and three hello ones; the same images repeated with differences to suggest the contin-uing structure.
I'm afraid at present there's no definite news about Mother as Patron. Father is worried about money and cannot pay out four pounds odd for a picture though he has just had a heating thing installed at about a hundred pounds. Mother however is interested and something may come of it.
Paul and I discovered a shop in Brixton the other day called 'Black and Jutting' and a friend of Molly's has a friend who knows two ladies named Miss Cockshut and Lady Hayter. Really. What would Flugel say about the professional tie-up of the former pair? So with names like these I don't care if I am called Hetty Remington.
I am so glad that you are happy. I love you.
This is the end of the prose and I turn into...
Hers was a spear the clouds had fallen on.
Goddess, both savage and erudite.
And who would not decide Marsyas' fate
Ample reward for touching her invention.
Who would not covet immobility
Mirrored forever in the fatal shield.
Arachne who, we say, the Goddess killed
Fears to take vengeance on her statuary.
But when the earliest rays of Phoebus
Enters her temple and warms the Goddess,
Then I forget all antique myths which are
Like inessential robes of revery
That fall (now eyesight wakes) below her knee.
Minerva's body. Symbol's vanquisher.
65353343 - jordanbg
11 Mansel Road Wimbledon12 v 1948
My dearest Sylvia
I am delighted to hear you're painting and it sounds a nice
subject. And I'm glad too that Michael is working, as you put
it 'at great speed' - I'm sure that is a good thing for him.
Do you know any good poets in fiction; any nice plausible
ones, that is - or even plausibly romantic ones? I have tried
to think of some but cannot. Would Michael know of any? It
is only a train of thought at present but I might follow it up
one day with amusing results possibly in an essay.
The repetitions of the birthday poem were intended to sug-
best that there is no element of loss in your birthday - no loss
to time that is. Three goodbye stanzas and three hello ones;
the same images repeated with differences to suggest the contin-
ing structure.
I'm afraid at present there's no definite news about Mother
as Patron. Father is worried about money and cannot pay out
four pounds odd for a picture though he has just had a heating
thing installed at about a hundred pounds. Mother however is
interested and something may come of it.
Paul and I discovered a shop in Brixton the other day called
'Black and Jutting' and a friend of Molly's has a friend who knows
two ladies named Miss Cockshut and Lady Hayter. Really. What
would Flugel say about the professional tie-up of the former pair?
So with names like these about I don't care if I am called Hetty
Remington.
I am so glad you are happy. I love you.
This is the end of the prose and I turn into...
Hers was a spear the clouds had fallen on.
Goddess, both savage and erudite.
And who would not decide Marsyas' fate
Ample reward for touching her invention.
Who would not covet immobility
Mirrored forever in the fatal shield.
Arachne who, we say, the Goddess killed
Fears to take vengeance on her statury.
But when the earliest ray of Phoebus
Enters her temple and warns the Goddess,
Then I forget all antique myths which are
Like inessential robes of revery
That fall (now eyesight wakes) below her knee.
Minerva's body. Symbol's vanquisher.
WINNER - 65354911 - LibrarianDiva
12 v 1948 11 Mansel RoadWimbledon
My dearest Sylvia
I am delighted to hear you're painting and it sounds a nice
subject. And I'm glad too that Michael is working, as you put
it 'at great speed' - I'm sure that is a good thing for him.
Do you know any good poets in fiction; any nice plausible
ones, that is- or even plausibly romantic ones? I have tried
to think of some but cannot. Would Michael know of any? It
is only a train of though at present but I might follow it up
one day with amusing results possibly in an essay.
The repetitions of the birthday poem were intended to sug-
gest that there is no element of loss in your birthday- no loss
to time that is. Three goodbye stanzas and three hello ones;
the same images repeated with differences to suggest the contin-
uing structure.
I'm afraid at present there's no definite news about Mother
as Patron. Father is worried about money and cannot pay out
four pounds odd for a picture though he has just had a heating
thing installed at about a hundred pounds. Mother however is
interested and something may come of it.
Paul and I discovered a shop in Brixton the other day called
'Black and Jutting' and a friend of Molly's has a friend who knows
two ladies named Miss Cockshut and Lady Hayter. Really. What
would Flugel say about the professional tie-up of the former pair?
So with names like these about I don't care if I am called Hetty
Remington.
I am so glad you are happy. I love you.
This is the end of the prose and I turn into...
Hers was a spear the clouds had fallen on.
Goddess, both savage and erudite.
And who would not decide Marsyas' fate
Ample reward for touching her invention.
Who would not covet immobility
Mirrored forever in the fatal shield.
Arachne who, we say, the Goddess killed
Fears to take vengence on her statuary
But when the earliest ray of Phoebus
Enters her temple and warms the Goddess,
Then I forget all antique myths which are
Like inessential robes of revery
That hall (now eyesight wakes) below her knee.
Minerva's body. Symbol's vanquisher.
65366863 - not-logged-in-42d4aef84153ee0df71b
11 Mansel RoadWimbledon
12 v 1948
My dearest Sylvia
I am delighted to hear you're painting and it sounds a nice subject. And I'm glad too that Michael is working, as you put it 'as great speed' - I'm sure that is a good thing for him.
Do you know any good poets in fiction; any nice plausible ones, that is - or even plausibly romantic ones? I have tried to think of some but cannot. Would Michael know of any? It is only a train of thought at present but I might follow it up one day with amusing results possibly in an essay.
The repetitions of the birthday poem were intended to suggest that there is no element of loss in your birthday - no loss to time that is. Three goodbye stanzas and three hello ones; the same images repeated with differences to suggest the continuing structure.
I'm afraid at present there is no definite news of Mother as Patron. Father is worried about money and cannot pay out four pounds odd for a picture though he has just had a heating thing installed at about a hundred pounds. Mother however is intrested and something may come of it.
Paul and I discovered a shop is Briston the other day called 'Black and Jutting' and a feiend of Molly's has a friend who knows two ladies called Miss Cockshut and Lady Hayter. Really. What would Flugel say about the professional tie-up of the former pair? So with names like these about I don't care if I am called Hetty Remington.
I am so glad you are happy. I love you.
This is the end of the prose and I turn into...
Hers was a spear the clouds had fallen on.
Goddess, both savage and erudite.
And who would not decide Marsyas' fate
Ample reward for touching her invention.
Who would not covet immobility
Mirrored forever in the fatal shield.
Arachne who, we say, the Goddess killed
Fears to take vengence on her statury.
But when the earliest ray of Phoebeus
Enters her temple and warms the Goddes,
Then I forget all antique myths which are
Like inessential robes of revery
That fall (now eyesight wakes) below her knee.
Minerva's body. Symbol's vanquisher.
65397873 - tpod74
12 v 194811 Mansel Road
Wimbledon
My dearest Sylvia
I am delighted to hear you're painting and it sounds a nice subject. And I'm glad too that Micheal is working, as you put it 'at great speed' - I'm sure that is a good thing for him.
Do you know any good posts in fiction; any nice plausible ones, that is - or even plausibly romantic ones? I have tried to think of some but cannot, Would Micheal know of any? It is only a train of thought at present but i might follow it up one day with amusing results possibly in an essay.
The repetitions of the birthday poem were intended to suggest that there is no element of loss in your birthday - no loss to time that is. Three goodbye stanzas and three hello ones; the same images repeated with differences to suggest the continuing structure.
I'm afraid at present there's no definite news about Mother as Patron. Father is worried about money and cannot pay out four pounds odd for a picture though he has just had a heating thing installed at about a hundred pounds. Mother however is interested and something may come of it.
Paul and I discovered a shop in Brixton the other day called 'Black and Jutting' and a friend of Molly's has a friend who knows two ladies named Miss Cockshut and Lady Fayter. Really. What would Flugel about the professional tie-up of the former pair? So with names like these about I don't care if I am called Hetty Remington.
I am so glad you are happy. I love you.
This is the end of the prose and I turn into...
Hers was a spear the clouds had fallen on.
Goddess, both savage and erudite.
And who would not decide Karyas' fate
Ample reward for touching her invention.
Who would not covet immobility
Mirrored forever in the fatal shield.
Arachne, who we say, the Goddess killed
Fails to take vengeance on her statury.
But when the earliest ray of Phoebus
Enters her temple and warms the Goddess,
Then I forgot all antique myths which are
Like inessential robes of revery
That fall (now eyesight wakes) below her knee.
Minerva's body. Symbol's vanquisher.
65543457 - UndercityHuckster
My dearest SylviaI am delighted to hear you're painting and it sounds a nice subject. And I'm glad too that Michael is working, as you pt it 'at great speed' - I'm sure that is a good thing for him.
Do you know any good poets in fiction; any nice plausible ones, that is - or even plausibly romantic ones? I have tried to think of some but cannot. Would Michael know of any? It is only a train of thought at present but I might follow it up one day with amusing results possibly in an essay.
The repetitions of the birthday poem poem were intended to suggest that there is no element of loss in your birthday - no loss to time that is. Three goodbye stanzas and three hello ones; the same images repeated with differences to suggest the continuing structure.
I'm afraid at present there's no definite news about Mother as Patron. Father is worried about money and cannot pay cut four pounds odd for a picture though he has just had a heating thing installed at about a hundred pounds. Mother however is interested and something may come of it.
Paul and I discovered a shop in Brixton the other day called 'Black and Jutting' and a friend of Molly's has a friend who knows two ladies named Miss Cockshut and Lady Hayter. Really. What would Flugel say about the professional tie-up of the former pair? So with names like these about I don't care if I am called Hetty Remington.
I am so glad you are happy. I love you.
This is the end of the prose and I turn into...
Hers was a spear the clouds had fallen on.
Goddess, both savage and erudite.
And who would not decide Marsya's fate
Ample reward for touching her invention.
Who would not covet immobility
Mirrored forever in the fatal shield.
Arachne who, we say, the Goddess killed
Fears to take vengence on her statury.
But when the earliest ray of Phoebus
Enters her temple and warms the Goddess,
Then I forget all antique myths which are
Like inessential robes of revery
That fall (now eyesight wakes) below her knee.
Minerva's body. Symbol's vanquisher.