But thou dost in thy passages of life
Make me believe that thou art only marked
For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven
To punish my mistreadings.
Don Draper has a bad habit of throwing money at his problem. His latest problem is Michael Ginsberg.
Billy and Eddie do business in the fall of 1984.
Peter loses, and Ego patches him up afterward. Okay, this is only going to suck a lot.
"Whatever you want," Nathan finds himself saying when his shirt comes off over his head and his glasses hit the nightstand — like he's talking to himself, which he might as well be. "Don't think about it like should, or shouldn't. Don't think. Don't fucking try and figure it out. Come on. You can keep your shirt on."
October 14: En route to Varna, Seward must tell a fellow suitor what transpired one night at Hillingham.
For the prompt of Adrian being a big nerd, him being a small nerd about something that isn't Egypt or Alexander for once. When Adrian Veidt is twelve years old, he discovers Homer's Iliad.
Edward receives an education in the inutility of virtue. The Earl abducts him for a session of discipline.
Billy and Stu have something to celebrate.
There in that white-gilt bedroom like a tomb, where I believe none of Gatsby's guests had ever before set foot except by mistake — none until Daisy, and I was only her adjunct and proxy, an accessory to her presence there in the house. He had forgotten about me then. He had forgotten about me now. I was his only witness.