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b186309 | Alarm clocks were going off in the city now. One after another, sometimes two or three together, they drove their small silver knives into the body of the great dream that sprawled naked on the housetops. Sensual, amiable, and defenseless as it was, it would still take a little while to die. | alarm-clocks amiable death-of-sleep defenseless small-silver-knives the-city the-great-dream waking-up morning | Peter S. Beagle |