Perhaps the most decorous homage a Faulknerphile can pay is a visit to
his grave, where the standard rite is to drink a swig of bourbon and
leave the bottle as a gift.
[Faulkner, le 6 juillet 1962. Suzanne, sinon, Jean Bouise, Louis Armstrong, les jolis barricadiers clic-clic et le pays qui n'est nulle part Livre Premier.]
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