conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a description for a book titled You Can't Go Home Again about Story, Southern, Europe with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Classics.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Story of an artist who flees scandal and despair as he journeys from his family home in a small Southern town to the capitals of prewar Europe.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide a plot for a book titled You Can't Go Home Again.. Start with the sentence 'You Can't Go Home Again (Battlestar Galactica): After her Viper is badly damaged during a dog fight with Cylon Raiders, Starbuck finds herself stranded and badly injured on a barren, inhospitable world'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: You Can't Go Home Again (Battlestar Galactica): After her Viper is badly damaged during a dog fight with Cylon Raiders, Starbuck finds herself stranded and badly injured on a barren, inhospitable world.\nShe discovers one of the downed Raiders and uses it to return to the fleet (with the words "star" and "buck" spelled out under the Raider\'s wings) just as Commander Adama has been convinced to give up searching, Apollo escorts her to the hangar deck where Starbuck and Adama reconcile over Zak\'s death.\nOn Caprica, Helo and Caprica-Boomer hide out at the shelter until a patrol of Cylon Centurions separates them.\nHelo desperately searches for her but there is no sign of Boomer.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the first paragraph for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: You Can't Go Home Again
  And indeed there was. The amount of simplicity that could be purchased even in those times for a yearly rental of fifteen thousand dollars was quite considerable. As if this very thought had found an echo in her mind, she went on:
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide three more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: This, then, is news. Is it also the whole story, Admiral Drake? No! Yet we do not supply the whole story—we who have known all the lights and weathers of America—as Fox supplies it now:
  Well, then, it's news, and it happened in your own hotel, brave Admiral Drake. It didn't happen in the Penn-Pitt at Pittsburgh, nor the Phil-Penn at Philadelphia, nor the York-Albany at Albany, nor the Hudson-Troy at Troy, nor the Libya-Ritz at Libya Hill, nor the Clay-Calhoun at Columbia, nor the Richmond-Lee at Richmond, nor the George Washington at Easton, Pennsylvania, Canton, Ohio, Terre Haute, Indiana, Danville, Virginia, Houston, Texas, and ninety-seven other places; nor at the Abraham Lincoln at Springfield, Massachusetts, Hartford, Connecticut, Wilmington, Delaware, Cairo, Illinois, Kansas City, Missouri, Los Angeles, California, and one hundred and thirty-six other towns; nor at the Andrew Jackson, the Roosevelt (Theodore or Franklin—take your choice), the Jefferson Davis, the Daniel Webster, the Stonewall Jackson, the U. S. Grant, the Commodore Vanderbilt, the Waldorf-Astor, the Adams House, the Parker House, the Palmer House, the Taft, the McKinley, the Emerson (Waldo or Bromo), the Harding, the Coolidge, the Hoover, the Albert G. Fall, the Harry Daugherty, the Rockefeller, the Harriman, the Carnegie or the Frick, the Christopher Columbus or the Leif Ericsson, the Ponce-de-Leon or the Magellan, in the remaining eight hundred and forty-three cities of America—but at the Francis Drake, brave Admiral—your own hotel—so, of course, you'll want to know what happened.
  And came from where? From the deep South, or the Mississippi Valley, or the Middle West? From Minneapolis, Bridgeport, Boston, or a little town in Old Catawba? From Scranton, Toledo, St. Louis, or the desert whiteness of Los Angeles? From the pine barrens of the Atlantic coastal plain, or from the Pacific shore?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Is it also the whole story, Admiral Drake? No! Yet we do not supply the whole story—we who have known all the lights and weathers of America—as Fox supplies it now:
  Well, then, it's news, and it happened in your own hotel, brave Admiral Drake. It didn't happen in the Penn-Pitt at Pittsburgh, nor the Phil-Penn at Philadelphia, nor the York-Albany at Albany, nor the Hudson-Troy at Troy, nor the Libya-Ritz at Libya Hill, nor the Clay-Calhoun at Columbia, nor the Richmond-Lee at Richmond, nor the George Washington at Easton, Pennsylvania, Canton, Ohio, Terre Haute, Indiana, Danville, Virginia, Houston, Texas, and ninety-seven other places; nor at the Abraham Lincoln at Springfield, Massachusetts, Hartford, Connecticut, Wilmington, Delaware, Cairo, Illinois, Kansas City, Missouri, Los Angeles, California, and one hundred and thirty-six other towns; nor at the Andrew Jackson, the Roosevelt (Theodore or Franklin—take your choice), the Jefferson Davis, the Daniel Webster, the Stonewall Jackson, the U. S. Grant, the Commodore Vanderbilt, the Waldorf-Astor, the Adams House, the Parker House, the Palmer House, the Taft, the McKinley, the Emerson (Waldo or Bromo), the Harding, the Coolidge, the Hoover, the Albert G. Fall, the Harry Daugherty, the Rockefeller, the Harriman, the Carnegie or the Frick, the Christopher Columbus or the Leif Ericsson, the Ponce-de-Leon or the Magellan, in the remaining eight hundred and forty-three cities of America—but at the Francis Drake, brave Admiral—your own hotel—so, of course, you'll want to know what happened.
  And came from where? From the deep South, or the Mississippi Valley, or the Middle West? From Minneapolis, Bridgeport, Boston, or a little town in Old Catawba? From Scranton, Toledo, St. Louis, or the desert whiteness of Los Angeles? From the pine barrens of the Atlantic coastal plain, or from the Pacific shore?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Provide the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He lies! And now we know he lies! He is not gloriously, or in any other way, ourselves. He is not our friend, our son, our brother. And he is not American! For, although he has a thousand familiar and convenient faces, his own true face is old as Hell.
  Dear Fox, old friend, thus we have come to the end of the road that we were to go together. My tale is finished—and so farewell.
  Something has spoken to me in the night, burning the tapers of the waning year; something has spoken in the night, and told me I shall die, I know not where. Saying:
  Thomas Wolfe's classic novel of American hope and perseverance during the Great Depression takes on new relevance in our time.
  Sign up for our newsletter and receive special offers, access to bonus content, and info on the latest new releases and other great eBooks from Scribner.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Sign up for our newsletter and receive special offers, access to bonus content, and info on the latest new releases and other great eBooks from Scribner.. Saying:
  Thomas Wolfe's classic novel of American hope and perseverance during the Great Depression takes on new relevance in our time.
  Something has spoken to me in the night, burning the tapers of the waning year; something has spoken in the night, and told me I shall die, I know not where. My tale is finished—and so farewell.
  Dear Fox, old friend, thus we have come to the end of the road that we were to go together. And he is not American! For, although he has a thousand familiar and convenient faces, his own true face is old as Hell. He is not our friend, our son, our brother.He lies! And now we know he lies! He is not gloriously, or in any other way, ourselves