"On Tuesday, when it hails and snows, The feeling on me grows and grows That hardly anybody knows If those are these or these are those."

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Our nada who art in nada, nada be thy name thy kingdom nada thy will be nada in nada as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada and nada us our nada as we nada our nadas and nada us not into nada but deliver us from nada; pues nada. Hail nothing full of nothing, nothing is with thee.

— Ernest Hemingway