Wednesday, 12 September 2007

"Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!"

Oxen and wain-ropes would not bring me back again to that accursed island; and the worst dreams that ever I have are when I hear the surf booming about its coasts or start upright in bed with the sharp voice of Captain Flint still ringing in my ears: "Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!"

The last line of Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson

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