Hare she thought it must be the right house, because the chimneys were shaped

What's his name?

All right. ( mysterious theme playing ) ( ominous theme playing )

You cannot make bricks without straw.

You can't make bricks without straw.

Bricks can't be made without straw.

Off to bed, young man. Well, who is Mr. Straw?

Drowning men clutch at straws.

A drowning man will catch at a straw.

In early days pioneers lived in houses made of mud and straw.

In Hokkaido, they make horses of straw.

He'll clutch at any straw.

And turned them into pastured fields of corn?

So He made them like the leftover devoured leaves of farms?

and He made them like green blades devoured.

Then He rendered them as stubble devoured.

And made them like an empty field of stalks (of which the corn has been eaten up by cattle).

Leaving them like chewed up leaves.

and made them like straw eaten up (by cattle).

And made them like green crops devoured (by cattle)?

thus making them like chewed up straw?

so that He made them like straw eaten (by cattle).

And He made them like eaten straw.

to turn them into (something) like the left over grass grazed by cattle.

So He rendered them like straw eaten up?

Thus He made them like stubble cropped by cattle?

Then did He make them like an empty field of stalks and straw, (of which the corn) has been eaten up.

But memory is not.

We're grasping at straws at this point.

I am very much attached to this old straw hat.

Using rubble from destroyed homes to create new homes.

At this time of crisis, you can still weave straw sandals?

Germany invades Poland.

And then interestingly, that building to then be clad in the oldest technology, which is the kind of hand cut shingles.

But Richard Kimble can only hope that the memory of a face, caught once in the glare of headlights, is made of something other than straw.

Yeah, she gave him the gun, the fire truck you saw in the closet, and a lot of other things you didn't see.

On the list it would be stuff like, seeing the daffodils bloom in the spring, the smell of new mown hay, catching a wave and bodysurfing, the touch of a baby's hand, the sound of Doc Watson playing the guitar,

Go where you will. You're free.

Gerard?

Reveille.

sometimes

Vivid

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You're cute.

Sometimes, it's...