|Linux Literature: 121 of 256|
Lord, what fools these mortals be!
-- William Shakespeare, "A Midsummer-Night's Dream"
|Linux Literature: 122 of 256|
Man is the only animal that blushes -- or needs to.
-- Mark Twain
|Linux Literature: 123 of 256|
Many a writer seems to think he is never profound except when he can't
understand his own meaning.
-- George D. Prentice
|Linux Literature: 124 of 256|
Many enraged psychiatrists are inciting a weary butcher. The butcher is
weary and tired because he has cut meat and steak and lamb for hours and
weeks. He does not desire to chant about anything with raving psychiatrists,
but he sings about his gingivectomist, he dreams about a single cosmologist,
he thinks about his dog. The dog is named Herbert.
-- Racter, "The Policeman's Beard is Half-Constructed"
|Linux Literature: 125 of 256|
Many pages make a thick book, except for pocket Bibles which are on very
very thin paper.
|Linux Literature: 126 of 256|
Many pages make a thick book.
|Linux Literature: 127 of 256|
Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is
particularly dead about a door-nail. I might have been inclined, myself,
to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade.
But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands
shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit
me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
-- Charles Dickens, "A Christmas Carol"
|Linux Literature: 128 of 256|
Must I hold a candle to my shames?
-- William Shakespeare, "The Merchant of Venice"
|Linux Literature: 129 of 256|
My dear People.
My dear Bagginses and Boffins, and my dear Tooks and Brandybucks,
and Grubbs, and Chubbs, and Burrowses, and Hornblowers, and Bolgers,
Bracegirdles, Goodbodies, Brockhouses and Proudfoots. Also my good
Sackville Bagginses that I welcome back at last to Bag End. Today is my
one hundred and eleventh birthday: I am eleventy-one today!"
-- J. R. R. Tolkien
|Linux Literature: 130 of 256|
My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
-- William Shakespeare, "Romeo and Juliet"