Robert Edison Fulton Jr.

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I probably did too much thinking in India. I blame it on the roads, for they were superb

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it was if another planet were calling. The call, embodied, issued in liquid syllables from the mouth of the Arab sailor who, on the prow of the Vestra each sun-up, looked toward the East and sang the Persian song:Hearken unto dawn, oh, my soul...Let good come unto the world