Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.
No, dudes, call me Ishmael, because this is the single most relatable sentence I’ve read in months.
Moby Dick, man! Who knew? (Everybody. Everybody knew.)
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- draculaderonda said: So many fart jokes!
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- unbornwhiskey said: been rereading it slowly this summer. it’s really the best book ever
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