Everything’s a nail, is it, Miss Hammerhead? First it was your search, freighted with fear and fragmented memories. Now it’s the train! Never time for tea. While your brains on holiday, we’re ruined! Now we’re all mad here and that’s a good excuse for going to hell in a teapot, but not for forgetting what your senses saw. Forgetting is just forgetting, except when it’s not. Then they call it something else. I’d like to forget what you did. I tried, but I can’t.
Want these só bad :D