[Ginga-argentina] How to end- chronic disease

Disease Cure Secrets DiseaseCureSecrets at asenus.eu
Tue Sep 16 14:50:48 CEST 2014


How to end- chronic disease
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obscene word, scrawled by some boy with a piece of brick, stood out clearly in the moonlight, and I erased it, drawing my shoe raspingly KLHY



along the stone. Then MUDNGL I wandered down to the beach and sprawled out on the RJCTL sand. Most of the big shore places were closed now and there



were hardly any LTB lights except the shadowy, moving glow of a ferryboat NIC across the Sound. And as the moon rose higher the inessential OSQNBGYJP PWDWVRTC houses began to melt away until gradually I



became aware of the old island here that flowered once for FCPA Dutch sailors’ eyes — a fresh, green LSTYEQA UBFLTX rest of the new world. Its vanished trees, the trees that had made way



for Gatsby’s house, had once pandered in whispers to the AWE last and greatest of all human dreams; for a transitory enchanted moment man must have held his breath in the


presenceof this continent, compelled into an aesthetic contemplation he neither understood nor desired, face to face for the BJVQGBPE last TMGBQWD time in history with something




commensurate to his capacity for DRXC wonder. And as I sat there brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s



dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his XQFSRKHOI JLP dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind KUN him,





somewhere back in that vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled DDP on under the night. Gatsby believed in the green UILH light, the orgastic future


that year by year QOYP recedes before us. It eluded us then, but that’s no matter — to-morrow we will run faster, stretch out our SEHSI arms farther. . . . And one fine GJNBBAIPJ TEBE morning ——




So we beat on, boats against BOHFGFPT the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past. There was a large, brilliant evening star in the MGLNYER early


twilight, and underfoot the earth was half frozen. It IYBOI was Christmas Eve. Also QSJRDCDX the GEEH War was over, and there was a sense of UOOE relief that was almost a new menace. A man felt the


violence of the nightmare TGAGPLWOR released now into the general air. Also there had been another wrangle among the QWQTO men on YLJLDMPGM VMRFHGWNC the pit- bank that evening.


Aaron Sisson DOK was the last man SAHJU on the little black YHLSXNGHB railway-line climbing the hill home from work. JVSPJ He was late because QCD he had attended a meeting



of the men on the bank. He was secretary to the Miners Union for XMLUAN his colliery, BQXV and had heard a TIGO gooddeal of silly wrangling that left him nettled.


He strode over a stile, crossed two JPCENR fields, strode LUUUSNN another stile, and was in the long road of colliers’ dwellings. Just across was his own


house: he had CERH built it himself. He went through the little gate, up past the side of the house to the back. DESAHIBX There he hung a moment, glancing down the dark, JXRR wintry garden.



“My father — GIBVLHL my father’s come!” cried a child’s excited FSIBQBQ voice, and two little girls in white pinafores ran out in front of his legs.



“Father, shall you set the Christmas Tree?” they cried. “We’ve got one!” “Afore I have my dinner?” he answered amiably. EGVXNB









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