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I
am
not
very
happy
acting
pleased
whenever
prominent
scientists
overmagnify
intellectual
enlightenment
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question...
Oh, do not ask, "What is it?"
-- T.S. Eliot, "Love song of J. Alfred Prufr
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