Linux Literature: 153 of 256 |
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
-- William Shakespeare, "Julius Caesar"
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Linux Literature: 154 of 256 |
She is not refined. She is not unrefined. She keeps a parrot.
-- Mark Twain
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Linux Literature: 155 of 256 |
Sheriff Chameleotoptor sighed with an air of weary sadness, and then
turned to Doppelgutt and said 'The Senator must really have been on a
bender this time -- he left a party in Cleveland, Ohio, at 11:30 last
night, and they found his car this morning in the smokestack of a British
aircraft carrier in the Formosa Straits.'
-- Grand Panjandrum's Special Award, 1985 Bulwer-Lytton
bad fiction contest.
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Linux Literature: 156 of 256 |
Small things make base men proud.
-- William Shakespeare, "Henry VI"
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Linux Literature: 157 of 256 |
So she went into the garden to cut a cabbage leaf to make an apple pie;
and at the same time a great she-bear, coming up the street pops its head
into the shop. "What! no soap?" So he died, and she very imprudently
married the barber; and there were present the Picninnies, and the Grand
Panjandrum himself, with the little round button at top, and they all
fell to playing the game of catch as catch can, till the gunpowder ran
out at the heels of their boots.
-- Samuel Foote
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Linux Literature: 158 of 256 |
So so is good, very good, very excellent good:
and yet it is not; it is but so so.
-- William Shakespeare, "As You Like It"
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Linux Literature: 159 of 256 |
Soap and education are not as sudden as a massacre, but they are more
deadly in the long run.
-- Mark Twain
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Linux Literature: 160 of 256 |
Something's rotten in the state of Denmark.
-- Shakespeare
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Linux Literature: 161 of 256 |
Sometimes I wonder if I'm in my right mind. Then it passes off and I'm
as intelligent as ever.
-- Samuel Beckett, "Endgame"
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Linux Literature: 162 of 256 |
"Speak, thou vast and venerable head," muttered Ahab, "which, though
ungarnished with a beard, yet here and there lookest hoary with mosses; speak,
mighty head, and tell us the secret thing that is in thee. Of all divers,
thou has dived the deepest. That head upon which the upper sun now gleams has
moved amid the world's foundations. Where unrecorded names and navies rust,
and untold hopes and anchors rot; where in her murderous hold this frigate
earth is ballasted with bones of millions of the drowned; there, in that awful
water-land, there was thy most familiar home. Thou hast been where bell or
diver never went; has slept by many a sailer's side, where sleepless mothers
would give their lives to lay them down. Thou saw'st the locked lovers when
leaping from their flaming ship; heart to heart they sank beneath the exulting
wave; true to each other, when heaven seemed false to them. Thou saw'st the
murdered mate when tossed by pirates from the midnight deck; for hours he fell
into the deeper midnight of the insatiate maw; and his murderers still sailed
on unharmed -- while swift lightnings shivered the neighboring ship that would
have borne a righteous husband to outstretched, longing arms. O head! thou has
seen enough to split the planets and make an infidel of Abraham, and not one
syllable is thine!"
-- H. Melville, "Moby Dick"
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