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at a recent Apple launch, the phone was supposed to recognize its owner, but too many people had been playing with it backstage, and by the time of the public demonstration, it no longer knew whom to trust, nor which was its owner’s image

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a bruise on the skin of an apple, dented slighted by somebody’s thumb; marked out

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a bruise on the skin of an arm, bleeding gently from the needle. He has his father’s eyes, but the DNA goes only gene-deep

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to no one evil for evil

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to Caesar that which bears his image, but to God everything that God has touched