So, there was this beautiful princess. She was locked in a high tower(. . . )She was stuck up there(. . . )So the only thing was to jump.
. . . everything seemed to him a uniform shade of gray- even the people! He had been unable to believe it could rain so much in one place, and so unceasingly. The damp had seemed to come up from the floors and into his bones, so that he'd thought he would eventually sprout mold, in the manner of a tree. "You do get used to it," he said "Even if sometimes you feel as if you out to be able to be wrung out like a washrag. " p 311