The Air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn’t it be? — it is the same the angels breathe.
— Mark Twain, Roughing It, Chapter XXII, 1886
The Air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn’t it be? — it is the same the angels breathe.
— Mark Twain, Roughing It, Chapter XXII, 1886
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