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Castle of Insolence at TONUS, Paris

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O mortal man, who livest here by toil,

Do not complain of this thy hard estate;

That like an Emmet thou must ever moil,

Is a sad Sentence of an ancient Date: And, certes, there is for it Reason great;

For, though sometimes it makes thee weep and wail,

And curse thy Star, and early drudge and late;

Withouten That would come a heavier Bale,

Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale.

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Exerpt from the poem The Castle of Indolence written by James Thomson in 1748

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Inside the mood is edgy.

People having intense conversations jostle each other.

A glass of champagne (or is it pils) spills all over someone’s overcoat.

Chills run down spines and the evening is ruined. 

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Castle of Insolence by Anne Elizabeth Halley Fellner

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fotos by Jade Fourès-Vernier

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