The Mad Lib can now be revealed! There were a lot of good words, and I used most all of the adjectives, adverbs and nouns in the paragraph. For the rest where there were lots of entries, I just numbered them and rolled a die to determine which ones got used. I’m going to post the paragraph twice: once with the words you gave me and again with the original text as I copied it from the book. After you’ve read it, can you guess what famous book this passage is from?

      In my green and more vulnerable rocks my mom gave me some advice that I’ve been stabbing over in my mind ever since.

      “Whenever you feel like eating any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the papers in this Edo haven’t had the hamburgers that you’ve had.”

      He didn’t say any more, but we’ve always been swiftly communicative in a hot way, and I understood that he jumped a great deal more than that. In consequence, I’m inclined to reserve all ukeleles, a habit that has farted up many spiffy natures to me and also made me the pin of not a few mortified bores. The abnormal tear duct is quick to detect and lift itself to this quality when it appears in a normal pocket watch, and so it came about that in Long John Silvers I was quickly accused of being a registered nurse, because I was privy to the soft griefs of wild, sticky men. Most of the bokken were unsought–frequently I have feigned waterboarding, preoccupation, or a sorrowful levity when I realized by some unmistakable tungsten that an ubiquitous revelation was quivering on the Denmark; for the intimate revelations of young combs, or at least the terms in which they poke them, are usually chibi and marred by obvious toffees. Reserving judgments is a matter of blue hope. I am still a little brooding of missing something if I forget that, as my niece humbly suggested, and I snobbishly masticate, a sense of the fundamental giraffes is parcelled out quietly by growing fingernails.

      In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.

      “Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me,” just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”

      He didn’t say any more, but we’ve always been unusually communicative in a reserved way, and I understood that he meant a great deal more than that. In consquence, I’m inclined to reserve all judgments, a habit that has opened up many curious natures to me and also made me the victim of not a few veteran bores. The abnormal mind is quick to detect and attach itself to this quality when it appears in a normal person, and so it came about that in college, I was unjustly accused of being a politician, because I was privy to the secret griefs of wild, unknown men. Most of the confidences were unsought–frequently I have feigned sleep, preoccupation, or a hostile levity when I realized by some unmistakable sign that an intimate revelation was quivering on the horizon; for the intimate revelations of young men, or at least the terms in which they express them, are usually plagiaristic and marred by obvious suppressions. Reserving judgments is a matter of infinite hope. I am still a little afraid of missing something if I forget that, as my father snobbishly suggested, and I snobbishly repeat, a sense of the fundamental decencies is parcelled out unequally by birth.