human
The thing which we love more than all else, we prefer that no one else should love. It belongs to another. So the willow, which takes root in our garden, Bends, blown by the wind, and adorns our neighbor's wall with its branches.
gpt
Those are the verses which I wrote in the western orchard! cried the Prince.
human
Have you preserved that fan?
gpt
I never use any other,