Terry Pratchett. Guards! Guards! (№ 37393)

The city was worthy of the title. Being. Woman. That was what it was. Woman. Roaring, ancient, ischikawa his age by centuries. Who took you by the nose, allowing you myself to fall in love, and then give you a kick. Smashing blow in the face. Smashing mouth. Language. Tonsils. Teeth. Yes, Yes, that's what she was. She was... being, you know, a bitch. Doll. Chicken. Bitch. And then you hated her, and even when you thought you have mastered it, outside of herself, she opened you with my huge clunky rotten heart, taking the advantage. And Yes. So. Never know where you stand. Lie. The only thing you sure you don't have to let her go. Because, because she was yours, all you have owned, with all of her gutters...