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— Mikhail Bulgakov"But worse things were about to be found in the bedroom: on the jeweller’s wife’s ottoman, in a casual pose, sprawled a third party- namely, a black cat of uncanny size, with a glass of vodka in one paw and a fork, on which he had managed to spear a pickled mushroom, in the other. , The Master and Magarita"
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I came home one night, some month ago, and I went to the closet in my bedroom...and a moth ate my sports jacket. He was laying on the floor, nauseous, y'know.
— Woody Allen
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She shrieked. "Nora! What happened to the banister!" Good thing she hadn't seen her bedroom yet.
— Becca Fitzpatrick
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