"A small speckled visitor Wearing a crimson cape Brighter than a cherry Smaller than a grape A polka-dotted someone Walking on my wall A black-hooded lady In a scarlet shawl."

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Anybody who has listened to certain kinds of music, or read certain kinds of poetry, or heard certain kinds of performances on the concertina, will admit that even suicide has its brighter aspects.

— Stephen Leacock