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That accounts for a good deal. That explains everything.
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No wonder.
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Oh! There it is. I'd recognize it anywhere.
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The very tree where I was hatched.
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I remember the day Mother made these marks,
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her giant meaty claw carving furrows in the crumbly bark.
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Chapter one, the birth of a genius.
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Pardon me, Owl. What are you doing?
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Oh, hello, Pooh. Eeyore.
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Why, I'm penning my personal memoirs.
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Yes. Now, where was I?
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Oh, yes, of course. With steely nerve...