E.B.:
[to himself]
Maybe this is a good thing. All great artists suffer before they become famous. That lady wrote Harry Potter in a ditch. But it's the hunger, the loneliness and exhaustion that gets you really. Oh. How could this night get any worse?
[sees car driving in front of him]
E.B.:
Oh, I see. Car accident. Thank you.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:31
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