There's something so romantic about winter and I don't know whether that's just because

I'm a bit for homebody and I love a 5th.

But I think it's just the holiday period.

It's just for me, it's the most romantic period.

And I think anyone who's listened to my records will know that I'm quite a big fan of romance.

Joy in every sip with red carp snout back at Starbucks.

Chapter 80, the nut.

If the sperm whale be physiognomically as finks, to the phrenologist his brain seems that

geometrical circle which it is impossible to square.

In the full grown creature the skull will measure at least 20 feet in length.

On hinge the lower jaw and the side view of the skull is as the side of a moderately

inclined plane resting throughout on a level base.

But in life as we have elsewhere seen, this inclined plane is angrily filled up and

almost squared by the enormous super incumbent mass of the junk and sperm.

At the high end the skull forms a crater to bed that part of the mass.

While under the long floor of this crater in another cavity, seldom exceeding ten inches

in length and as many in depth, reposes the mere handful of this monster's brain.

The brain is at least 20 feet from his apparent forehead in life.

It is hidden away behind its vast outworks like the innermost citadel within the amplified

fortifications of Quebec.

So like a choice casket is it secreted in him that I have known some whaleman who preempt

early deny that the sperm whale has any other brain than that palpable semblance of one

...