Geography and Plays

by Gertrude Stein

Link the hat and the coat and the collar, have the hair and the eyes and the color, see the time and the tea and altogether and do not be singular enough, and so there is that to view and the single planter has the rest as history. He did not tell it in giving it more room than cloth. So early is it not.

Saddle the simple sore without a touch of lame despair and do not touch the hair because there is the use of all that pause. So sweetly is it true that neatness does not mean the curls are true and yet there is absolutely none, absolutely no powder. So the place is not used for the tea and the last water is not more boiling than is touchy.

Frown nowhere and do not change that space, that is the way to use the time to purchase mining pictures. The little darkness and no large lamp, all the light being together does not make everything strange. Please the daylight, show the ruins that there is water, do not disturb the lamp, make more noise than resting and more that is changed is changed and an agreement shows the pink not to be redder. All that partial resemblance to a disagreement and a reunion is not more questioned than no answer. Not any more choice is so determined, and yet, why is the season so ingrained in the early morning when noon is no later. There is always a return of any answer.

Peace and the morning and a show of any evening, a reflection and the pleasant state of nature, this does make so much debt that there is no name anywhere. So pleasing is disaster, so ancient is being old enough in the matter.

Bestow a curve in the collapse and there is no withdrawal and that which is secure has some way of preserving any walking. All the time has a finished undertrimming and so there has the approach to a lingering printing.

To place an eye, to set the corner, to make a blessing, and to search a mansion, to persuade the noon and to establish harmony, the cause that is the mention is not more pained than anything. So then there is a memory, there is a stone home, there is no weakness.

Clearly and a gem, singly and all four, the stem, the stone the happy way, the single blessing of the longing soon, the patent habit of the leaving of the room, all this and no white light is not more dim than every candle and many of them make the illumination gentler, they dwindle in large, they season the sun, they blossom the churn, they bestow in a plant. This was no sprain, this was the regal pin.

A broom and a window, both of them uttered are so plain that there is more space and very much more hurry and yet there is a change of address, this is written. So clannily there will not be when the envelope is larger. The same union is stronger. An afternoon is weaker. That was the time and then in the evening there is dinner and later, any time later there is more than one corner, there is a fire, there is that, there is no pleasant place in more fire. Then came that which pushed away a piano, then came that and there was a whole collection. The question was not detained. There was that to do and arranging is done by separation. This is yellow and brown is a color. Peace is rested when it is occupied.

If the three are one they do not have voices, that means no more than that all of them are four. More is not regulated and yet there is an introduction, there are degrees, there is past pressing, there is the change of a pudding. All is not any meddling of a mess and the keen lump is not shadowed by any sun.

Plant the union of a question later, all the time has that change, the pink length and the satin fixture this does not make any question uncertain. A question if there is no answer is a question where there is no answer. To place more is always a way.