Vyvyan Ayrs
Composing is a crusade. Sometimes you slay the dragon. Sometimes it slays you.
Vyvyan Ayrs
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Vyvyan Ayrs You must have misheard me. I said I had a melody, not a malady!
Zachry Lonesome night. Babbits bawlin', wind bitin' the bone. Wind like this full of voices. Ancestry howlin' at you, yibberin' stories. All voices tied up into one. One voice different, one voice whisperin' out there, spyin' from the dark. That fangy devil Ol' Georgie hisself. Now you hear up close and I'll yarn you about the first time we met, eye to eye.
Zachry Nay, this life all rot n' luck n' no smilin' in some yarnin'. In rear's time, I ever fessed the secret of Sloosha's Hallow. Adam, my bro' by law, n' his son n' me be trekkin' back from Honokaa Market. It was Adam's custom to kowtow his ancestry with offerin's n' honorin's. Suddenwise, that fangy devil's eyes, I felt'em.
Cloud Atlas
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