J is the extra stuff!
Out of it.
[...] wish I were out of doors! I wish I were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free; and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! Why am I so changed? why does my blood rush into a hell of tumult at a few words?
Emily Brontë: Wuthering Heights
Do do do do do.
Now we are tall and Christmas trees are small
Bee Gees: First of May
Klebelevant.
Friends are those who notice when there's a new sticker on your bicycle.
Schweigesätze.
Wir brauchen Sätze, um von unseren Traumata nicht sprechen zu können.
Kim de l'Horizon: Blutbuch